The Mollcroft Files
by shnuffeluv
Summary: Some ships have a list. Mollcroft has a file. A collection of all my Mollcroft-y one-shots that don't go along with the 30 Day OTP challenge. Will be taking requests. Will NOT be writing mature content, smut, and the like, sorry! Fluff is my strong point, but I do other things too. Working on this from AO3 and Fanfiction so requests might take a while to upload!
1. An Exception to Every Rule

**A/N: So, I saw on therinian's Tumblr a Mollcroft prompt I really liked. It said: **

_It's a bit OOC for Mycroft, but I'm looking for a humorous angle:_

Mycroft realizes he likes Molly, but is at a loss as to how to ask her on a date; typically, he sends Anthea to make appointments with women he's interested in, but somehow doing that with Molly doesn't seem right. He turns to Sherlock, John, and Greg, individually, for pointers… and they give him the oddest advice.

Mycroft tries to employ each bit of advice in his attempts to woo Doctor Molly Hooper, with disastrous results. Just when it seems like Molly is completely disappointed and wants nothing to do with Mycroft, he gets advice from an unlikely source: _be yourself._

**So I feel like trying it out. May go well, may not. Who knows. Let's find out!**

* * *

An Exception to Every Rule

Mycroft wasn't normally a heavy drinker, but there is an exception for every rule, and this was one of those times he just couldn't stop. He ran a hand down his face and sighed. Just when he decided he liked Molly, everything came crashing down on him at once. Wasn't that always the way? He had finished the damage control only today-a week after everything started-and now he had to deal with the problem that Molly Hooper had become. In any other situation, he would have just gotten Anthea to arrange an appointment with Molly so he could meet her. But somehow this just didn't seem right for Molly. An exception to the rule. He checked the CCTV footage again. He was hopelessly at a loss for what to do. It seemed it was time to do what he thought he'd never have to do after Sherlock cleaned up from cocaine: he had to ask for help. First person on his list to ask would be someone he knew didn't see Molly as much and if he did, he wouldn't be inclined to gossip. A quick phone call later and he was meeting Lestrade at a pub in 20. Not the ideal place, but he could tell on the phone Lestrade was already more than a little drunk, and he didn't trust Greg to meet _him_ anywhere, so it would have to do.

When he showed up, Greg motioned for him to take a seat, and Mycroft complied. Ordering a shot of his own, he got straight to the point. "I need some advice."

Greg looked at him and laughed. "Never thought I'd hear you say that to me again. What's the matter? Sherlock at it again?"

"No…I need some…girl…advice."

Greg nearly choked on his drink. "What?! Mate, I think I've had one too many pints. I thought you just said you needed help with girls?"

"You heard me correctly."

"Well, then. How can I help?"

"Say I liked someone shy and not very outgoing, but was still willing to stand up for what she believed…like Molly, for example. And I don't always follow the moral code she does, so I don't know how she sees me. How could I show her I like her without her thinking I'm just trying to manipulate her?"

"That is a tough one. I mean if she's anything like Molly and you're…well, _you_…" Mycroft rolled his eyes, "Why don't you just…talk to her? Get in a conversation, bring up dinner and see if she'll accept. Don't be subtle about it. The worst that can happen is she'll say no."

Mycroft knocked back his shot and said, "That's worse coming from her than from most people."

Greg slapped his shoulder suddenly and said, "Good luck, mate. Have you tried asking John?"

"John?"

"In the army they called him John 'Three Continents' Watson, if that gives you an idea of how he is with women."

Mycroft hummed in thought. "Maybe I will. Thanks, I guess."

"Anytime." Lestrade tried to stand but had to sit down quickly.

"Do you want me to call you a cab?" Mycroft offered.

"Please."

* * *

John walked into Mycroft's office the next day, wondering what exactly was happening. Mycroft poured himself a glass of whiskey and offered one to John. Alarms going off in John's head, he immediately asked, "Mycroft, what am I doing here?"

Mycroft said bluntly, "I confronted Lestrade with a problem and he directed me towards you."

"Me, why?"

"You were known to your friends in the army as John 'Three Continents' Watson, were you not?"

"No way. You need _dating_ advice? Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming!" he laughed.

He stopped when he realized Mycroft wasn't joking. "Oh. You really need advice."

Mycroft winced and looked away. "This wasn't a good idea…"

John shook his head and said, "What's the problem? Do you need her to notice you, or are you already dating and hit a bump in the relationship?"

Mycroft looked back at him. "You're acting surprisingly calm about this."

"Well, the sooner I answer your question the sooner I can leave. Now which is it?"

"The first one."

"Well, why don't you try cracking a few jokes?"

"Me? Joke. Please tell me you're not serious."

"If you don't normally do it, that should get her attention." John shrugged. "It's worth a shot."

Mycroft nodded mutely and was about to say he could leave when Sherlock burst in. "Mycroft! Why have you taken John this time?!"

"Mycroft needs girl advice!" John said like he was still in grade school. Sherlock's eyes widened and Mycroft face palmed, wishing he could die on the spot.

Sherlock starts laughing, not believing his ears. Mycroft tries to throw both of them out of his office, but as he's shoving Sherlock out, his foot gets caught in the door. "Show off your intellect. It's always gotten me the girls." Sherlock removes his foot and closes the door before Mycroft can respond. Now he has three pieces of advice that seem kind of odd, but he's willing to give it a shot. He figures he'll go to the morgue tomorrow and see if it works, somehow feeling a little lighter now that he has some sort of plan.

* * *

When Mycroft enters the morgue the next day, Molly does a double take when she sees him. "Mr. Holmes! How can I help you?"

"Well, you could call me Mycroft for a start, Dr. Hooper." He tries a laugh but it comes out forced and a little cold. "I needed to check one of your bodies. He was an associate of mine and I need to see exactly how much damage control I have to do."

"Oh, of course. You can call me Molly, by the way. What's the man's name?"

"Smith. John Smith."

Molly nods and says, "I won't be getting to him for quite some time. You can stay…or leave! Whichever suits you. Most people don't seem to like waiting around here…"she stammers.

Mycroft tries not to smile and says, "I don't have anywhere to be, so I won't wind up like someone here if I wait."

"What?" Molly asks.

"I won't be 'late.'" Mycroft tries to smile, but something tells him that was the wrong thing to do as Molly starts to get mad.

"Is this a joke to you?"

"I…what?"

"These people were human beings. Walking, talking, human beings. Just days ago you could have passed these people on the street. How can you be so insensitive?!"

Mycroft blinked back his surprise. There goes one technique down the drain. "Sorry, I'm not one for jokes. Some people say I could use a little lightening up, so I was trying it out."

"Well, it's not funny."

Mycroft nodded. "I understand that now. Am I still allowed to wait?"

Molly nods silently and goes to work. Mycroft notices after a while she's having a bit of trouble with one of the corpses. "I don't get it. No tumors, no evidence of violence, or poison, or anything! This man should be alive for all intents and purposes. What got to him?"

Mycroft realizes he could try Sherlock's advice now, after all, the reason Molly has a crush on Sherlock is because of his smarts, right? "What about that mark on the back of his neck?"

Molly starts and looks up at him. "There's a small mark on the back of his neck. It could pass as a birthmark, but it looks like something bruised him there and could have immobilized him, causing damage to some of his nerves. Without medical attention he could have died within the day, depending on where he was left and who left him there," he explains.

"Show off," Molly stated. "Trying to prove you're smarter than me?"

"Just trying to help."

"I don't need your 'help,'" Molly grumbled.

Mycroft mentally checked that off his list as well. He took a breath and said, "It just seems so quiet in here, I was trying to spark a little conversation."

Molly put down her tools and said, "Mycroft, I've had a long day. I'm not in the mood to talk. So if you can't stand waiting in here, go do something else and I'll text you when I'm ready. Or better yet, I'll just e-mail the report for you, since you clearly have more important places to be. Just go."

Mycroft opened his mouth but Molly just pointed to the door. "Go."

Mycroft slunk out and sighed. In the car ride back to his office, Anthea noticed his leg was bouncing impatiently and he was looking wistfully out the window. "Something the matter, sir?"

Mycroft looked over at her as if noticing her for the first time. "Anthea, you're a girl."

"Amazing observation, sir." Anthea rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but being sarcastic at that comment.

"How would you want someone to ask you on a date?"

Anthea laughed. She couldn't help it. Mycroft could be so thick about the most basic of things. "I'd want them to be themselves. No gimmicks, no tricks, just to come up and ask me."

Mycroft sighed and said, "I can't do that…can I?"

"You tell me, sir."

When Mycroft got back to the office, he called up a flower shop and ordered a bouquet of red tulips and yellow with one yew flower in the middle to deliver them to the morgue tomorrow with the tag, _Look up Victorian Flower Language–MH_

The next day he got a picture of a garden daisy by text and the words _Apology accepted. –Molly_

_Dinner?-MH_

_Of course! -Molly_

Mycroft smiled. He was glad that Molly was willing to accept who he was-a little old-fashioned, and a little socially awkward, but still someone who was willing to love someone else if they allowed him to. Now all he had to do was not screw up dinner…


	2. The Cat Cake Disaster

**A/N: So, this one is for Guest who requested:**

If going for fluffy sweetness why not something with Molly's cat or to do with Mycroft's sweet tooth?

**Oh, by the way, these don't necessarily occur in the same universe together unless it has been explicitly stated in the AN. Or the fic, it might slip my mind to mention it. ;)**

* * *

The Cat Cake Disaster

Molly was at the morgue and Mycroft was working at home the day that it happened. Mycroft decided to bake a cake to surprise Molly. He made a chocolate cake without a hitch and began to cut it into the shape of a cat-whenever he did things like that Molly laughed and gave him a quick kiss. It was hard work, but it was worth it. Just as he finished cutting it and covered it as he went to make the icing, Molly's cat Toby hopped up next to it. "What do you want?"

"Mrrow." Toby batted at the covering over the cake.

Mycroft sighed and turned away, dipping his finger in the spare cake batter and licking it. He heard a crash and turned around to find Toby managed to throw the lid off the cake. "Nonono!" Mycroft rushed over and moved Toby out of the room. "That's not for you!"

"Meow!" Toby seemed angry.

Mycroft went back and covered the cake again, putting a cookbook over it to weigh the lid down. He got out all the food coloring he needed and started to whip up the icing, taking a bite of the extras of the cut cake as he did so. He heard a meow and found Toby up on the counter again, eating the extra cake. "Hey! That's mine!" He tried to shoo Toby away but got himself clawed for his troubles.

"Mrrow!" Toby hissed and defiantly took a big bite of the extra cake.

Mycroft swiped him off the counter yelling, "THAT'S MY CAKE!"

In some corner of his mind he was glad no one saw him acting this childish, but his sweet tooth took precedence in the time that Molly wasn't around, and that horrible cat had just taken his prize. Toby ran off, and Mycroft returned to work after checking to make sure the scratches weren't serious. He quickly iced the cake and stuck it in the refrigerator for safe keeping. He cut off the place from the extra cake where Toby had taken a bite, and started to eat it, savoring every bite. He heard a yowl and turned to see Toby leaping at his leg. It was too late for Mycroft to react as a curse was ripped from his lips and he went quickly over to the sink. He poured a cup of water and dumped it on the cat, making him let go. Toby went on the table and stole the last bites of Mycroft's little indulgence. He meowed smugly. Mycroft made a grab for him and Toby bounded off. "This means war," Mycroft said with conviction. Just then his phone rang. "Hello?!" he asked.

"Love, are you okay?" Molly's voice was full of concern even over the phone.

Mycroft sighed. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Toby just gave me a nasty scratch on my leg."

Molly gave him a sympathetic cooing and a promise to help him treat it when she got back and then ended the call. Mycroft turned off the phone and went upstairs to get a pillowcase. When he came down Toby was waiting and hissed when Mycroft got close. He quickly threw the pillow over Toby and tied a knot at the opening, but not before he got one more scratch on his hand. He walked out of the house grumbling, Toby fighting the whole time. As Mycroft was about to throw the pillowcase into the trash can Molly pulled up in a taxi. "Mycroft, is that Toby?!"

Mycroft waited a second to long for that to register before hiding the make-shift sack behind his back. "No!" he lied like a child to Molly.

Molly narrowed her eyes and took the case from him, untying the knot and turning it sideways. Toby hopped out and rubbed against Molly's legs lovingly. Mycroft turned red as Molly led him inside and Toby followed them. Molly pulled up a chair in front of the kitchen sink and gently pushed Mycroft down onto it. She heated up the water and then put Mycroft's hand under it as she rolled up his sleeve to rinse the other scratches. "And you wonder why he doesn't like you," Molly muttered.

Mycroft winced at the heat of the water but Toby wasn't coming near him so at least he didn't have to worry about that for a little while. "He was eating my food!" Mycroft whined.

"What are you, 3?"

"No, that'd be Sherlock. People say I act more like I'm 5," he joked.

Molly kissed him on the forehead. "Well then I'd better readjust your bedtime, mister."

Mycroft laughed. "Check the fridge for me? I wouldn't put it past that devil spawn you insist on calling a cat to figure out how to get in there."

Molly rolled her eyes and walked over to check. She gasped when she saw what was inside. Mycroft tried not to laugh. "Well, I see why you were trying to throw Toby out."

"He was trying to eat it."

"I have no doubt he was trying to eat the _extras_…"

"Ah."

"You're _so_ busted," Molly said walking over.

Mycroft stretched up to kiss her. "Can I have a slice of that, too?"

"Meow!" Toby said from the doorway.

"Stupid cat," Mycroft scowled.


	3. First Day of School

**A/N: Next prompt is by lovethisfic!**

Mycroft with his daughter? Something anything? Maybe her first day at School :)

**I can imagine so much fluff! But these requests are very Mycroft-centric. Molly's part of the relationship, too, if you want me to do something with her!**

First Day of School

"C'mon Daddy! We're gonna be late!"

"Don't worry Charlotte. We're going to be fine."

Mycroft was taking Charlotte-his and Molly's daughter-to her first day at school, and needless to say, Charlotte was very excited. He was walking her to her classroom as parents were allowed to do for the first week. Outside the classroom Charlotte almost ran in, but Mycroft held her back by the shoulder. She turned around and he knelt down. "Now listen, Charlotte. Not everyone in the class is going to notice the things you do or learn things as quickly, okay? That means you have to be nice and try not to brag when you find yourself finishing work before everyone else or starting fights by saying things other kids will want kept quiet, understand?"

Charlotte nodded. "I know, Daddy. You and Mummy have explained this for the past week!"

Mycroft laughed. "We just want to make sure you're fine here and don't start hating school until the first month is up." Charlotte giggled. "I love you."

Charlotte wrapped her arms around Mycroft's neck. "I love you too, Daddy."

She ran in without another look back. Mycroft left and ran into Sherlock who apparently was working a case on the school grounds. "Mycroft, are you…crying?!"

Mycroft swept at his eyes and indeed saw tears where his fingers had touched his cheeks. He smiled and Sherlock looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "You'll understand when you have kids," he simply said as he walked away.

"What? What did I miss?! TELL ME!" Sherlock yelled at the retreating figure.

Mycroft just laughed to himself and thought about what he was going to do to make the house sound less empty until he could pick up Charlotte.


	4. Well-Dressed Men Aren't Meant forCamping

**A/N: This next prompt is from Random Person:**

Please do whatever comes to mind with this line:

Molly is outdoorsy, nature hates Mycroft.

**I'm sad to say I don't know enough about Daemon Universes to do the other guest's request, though the meager results I could scrounge up on the Internet made it sound really interesting, I don't know enough to do anything with it. Sorry, but I can do this one! Oh, warning: fair amount of Mycroft-whump because the first thing I thought of was Mycroft-whump in the woods!**

* * *

Well-Dressed Men Are Not Meant for Camping

Molly was driving with grim determination on her face as Mycroft sat next to her scowling and giving her the silent treatment. Finally, Mycroft broke the silence. "Well, that week couldn't have possibly gone any worse."

"It could have gone a lot better if you weren't whining."

Mycroft crossed his arms and stared out the window. "This isn't the quickest way home."

"We're not going home yet."

The whole car suddenly felt like a death trap. Mycroft was just staring at her. There was no emotion, not even irritation. It was a completely blank stare. Molly rolled her eyes and sighed. "We need to make sure none of your cuts, bumps, or scrapes are infected, and we need to make sure your wrist isn't broken, as well as making sure that twisted ankle isn't serious."

"Well why can't you do it?"

"Because I've had it up to here with your griping, and I don't want to murder you if something bad happened and you say it was my fault!"

"It is your fault for making us go camping!"

Molly sighed again and continued to drive. "We're going to John's clinic. Hopefully he can take care of everything."

Mycroft started to shout and Molly just ignored him. Eventually he ran out of things to say and continued the sulking from before.

* * *

When they walked in the clinic and Molly asked for John, they had to wait a few minutes. While they were silently sitting in the waiting room, Molly looked over and asked, "Are you going to talk to John or am I going to have to sit in there with you and explain what's wrong like your mother?"

Mycroft said nothing. John opened the door to his office as a patient walked out and checked to see who was next. Molly stood up and grabbed Mycroft by the shoulder. John's eyes widened and let them in right away. All he could manage to ask was, "Wh-what happened?!"

Mycroft remained stubbornly silent. Molly just said, "Would you mind checking him over to make sure he's all right? I don't want to accidentally kill him if he accuses me for causing any of this. He has cuts over his arms and legs, a twisted ankle, he's been complaining about his wrist, as well as hitting everything he can possibly hit. And I have a sneaking suspicion he got too close to poison ivy while looking a place to go to the bathroom, if you know what I mean."

John was torn between snickering and practically fainting in shock of the notion of Mycroft actually being dragged along camping. "Wow. Um…okay. Okay…"

John turned around quickly and grabbed some bandages as well as disinfectant. When he turned back Mycroft had rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing some rope burns and a few very deep cuts, and several shallow scratches. Mycroft wouldn't meet his eyes. "How did these happen?!"

Molly sighed and said, "It's a long story."

"Well, you'd better start talking then."

* * *

It was the first day of their camping trip and already Mycroft was being a big pill. "Honestly Molly, out of all the things you could have chosen for our vacation, why did you have to choose camping?"

"Mycroft, this is going to be nice. A week away from any responsibilities or people is good for you."

"Are you sure you weren't dropped on your head when you were a child?"

"Shut up and tie our food up in the tree."

Mycroft grabbed the trash bag filled with their only food they brought for an entire week, a few cans of ravioli and other non-perishables, and threw it over a tree limb and grabbed the rope it was tied to and tried to lift it off the ground, but it was surprisingly heavy. He had to wrap the rope around his arms to get good leverage on it. "I still don't see why we have to do this."

"It's so other animals can't get into it…" Molly turned around and exclaimed, "Mycroft, don't do that, you'll hurt your arms!"

As if Molly were magic, Mycroft lost his grip on the rope and it unraveled on his arms very quickly, leaving angry red marks on his arms. "What did I just tell you!" Molly scolded. She hoisted the bag up, tied the rope on a lower branch, and went to inspect his arms. She gently touched one on the burn and Mycroft cursed. Molly shook her head. "I think I have something for treating burns in the first aid kit."

"I told you this was a bad idea," Mycroft muttered.

"You'll change your mind."

"No I won't!" Mycroft yelled at Molly's back as she went to fetch the first aid kit.

* * *

"Well, okay. That explains the burns. How did he get all of these scratches on his arms?"

"They're on his legs too."

John rolled up Mycroft's pant legs to see the same kind of scratches he found on his legs. He dabbed some disinfectant on them and Mycroft hissed. "How long has he been relatively unresponsive like this?"

Molly shrugged. "Since I told him we were coming here. Besides that, it was when he wasn't looking where he was going as we were leaving and ran straight into a tree. The last thing he said was, 'I hate nature,' and then he was sulking for most of the car ride."

John nodded absent-mindedly and bandaged Mycroft's legs like he'd done with his arms. "How did he get those scratches?"

"Several squirrels and a particularly aggressive chipmunk."

"You're joking right?"

"I'm afraid not…"

* * *

"Come on, Mycroft. At least we have something to eat besides ravioli now!"

"Fishing is boring and disgusting alternatively."

Molly lowered the net of fish they'd caught. "Stop being so negative, hon. We only have two days left of our vacation, it's high time you relaxed."

Mycroft huffed.

When they got back to the camp site, they saw a bunch of different small animals eating food out of a tear in their food bag. Mycroft groaned and went closer to shoo them away. Almost all of them ran away, except a few squirrels and a chipmunk. When they didn't leave he took the food they were eating and made to throw it away when all of them leapt onto his legs and arms in an attempt to get their prize back. Molly laughed despite herself as Mycroft flailed to get them off. The squirrels made some deep scratches on his arms and legs, and the chipmunk was running all over him scratching anywhere he could find purchase. Mycroft threw the food into the woods and the rodents chased it. Molly was doubled over laughing as she came over with the first aid kit…again. "Good thing I packed a shot for rabies!" she giggled.

"Shut up!"

* * *

"I'm wondering if he received some brain damage during this trip."

Molly nodded. "I'm really worried. He didn't even sulk this much that time Sherlock tricked him into smoking an exploding cigarette, and I thought he'd never come out of his room!"

John leant back and said, "I can't check anything else until he becomes responsive. Any way we can do that?"

Molly shrugged and said, "Maybe before, but now I think we might have to wait it out."

"Right." John grabbed Mycroft's ankle and gave it a firm tug.

"OW!"

"Glad to see you back in the land of the lucid," John said trying not to smirk.

Mycroft rubbed his ankle. "What was that for?!"

"Checking if it's twisted. Doesn't seem particularly nasty, a few days off of it and it should be good as new."

"Ow…"

"Mycroft, can you turn your wrist for me?"

"What?"

"Can you turn your wrist-" John mimed the motion, "in a circle?"

Mycroft tried but couldn't get more than halfway without wincing. "You're going to need some x-rays to make sure, but I'm pretty sure it's broken." He pulled out another wrap of bandages and started securing Mycroft's ankle and foot. "Other than that, all I can say is ibuprofen, plenty of rest, a warm bath to relieve pain from poison ivy, and no more going near-catatonic."

Molly thanked him and started to help Mycroft up and out the door.

"Oh, one more thing!"

Mycroft turned his head back to show he was listening.

"Don't go camping again."

Mycroft sighed and said, "It wasn't even my idea, why am I the one who's punished for it?!"


	5. Deduce, Delete, Deduce

**A/N: Next ficlet is something my brother voted to write before other requests I have (but I will try to get to all of them) which says:**

Sherlock keeps deducing and deleting Mollcroft, then deduces and deletes again.

**So my Guest reviewer made a pitch so good in 11 words my brother was just sort of *Do this. Do this now.* What's your secret? This could mean publishers being interested in a book or putting it in the reject pile, if it works for everyone! ;)**

Deduce, Delete, Deduce

The first time he saw it Sherlock thought he'd imagined it. Mycroft had come with him to the morgue to help prepare the body of his look-alike for the Lazarus plan. Mycroft's hand brushed Molly's as they left, and Sherlock could have sworn he saw their fingers catch for a second too long. The thought of them as a couple being too disturbing for Sherlock to process, he pushed it out of his mind and deleted it when doubt brought it back.

The second time was much more obvious. Mycroft and Molly were sharing Mycroft's umbrella, walking down the street to a local restaurant. They were talking and occasionally verbally sparring, and Sherlock saw Mycroft smile a few times and Molly's jokes. Sherlock froze and made a face. Mycroft looked over, winked at him, and kept talking with Molly. Sherlock deleted it as soon as they were gone, and was curious to why he was feeling nauseous the rest of the day.

Mycroft kept on sending him looks the next time they were planning for facing Moriarty. "What are you looking at? None of these plans leave any room for anyone to be in danger, and it's fairly obvious with a little work Moriarty's web can be dismantled!"

Mycroft realized Sherlock must have deleted his relationship with Molly, and stifled the urge to do anything more than give the twitch of a smile. He went back to looking at the papers, relief flooding him when Sherlock continued his erratic pacing and soon left. He sighed, knowing sooner or later Sherlock was going to remember and then he'd never hear the end of it.

The next time Sherlock found out would be forever seared into his brain, no matter how hard he tried. He barged into Mycroft's office, to find Molly holding Mycroft by his tie in a kiss. But rather than struggle, Mycroft was returning the kiss and getting his hand tangled in her hair. Sherlock let out a squeak and the two looked up to see their unwanted visitor. Mycroft quickly straightened out his suit and Molly re-did her ponytail, finding the floor suddenly interesting. Sherlock's eyes were wide as saucers as he made choking noises trying to speak. His eyes rolled up in his head and he fell backwards in a swoon worthy of an Oscar. Molly and Mycroft just stood frozen for a minute, until Mycroft finally said, "Well, he's not deleting it this time."

Molly shoved him and soon Sherlock was resting outside the door that blocked the world from their snogging.


	6. Learning to Ride a Bike

**A/N: Last prompt! If you guys don't give me more, I'll have to resort to my own devices, and I'm not sure you all want that to happen. My imagination is pretty strange. ;) This one is from ally:**

I love those ficlets! Anyway, more dadcroft would be cute! :)

**Sooo I'm working on it! I had an idea that was super cute, and we see Mycroft's concerned-protective side, instead of his aggressive-protective side. Same universe as First Day of School. Enjoy the fluff!**

Learning to Ride a Bike

Mycroft, Molly, and Charlotte were on the street outside of Mycroft and Sherlock's parents' house, teaching Charlotte to ride the bike her grandparents had gotten her for Christmas. Molly had the camera, and Mycroft was holding Charlotte on the bike, keeping her balanced. "Charlotte are you ready?"

"Yeah, daddy. I've got my helmet on, and the knee and elbow pads you make me wear. This is going to be fun!"

"Your first time without training wheels and you're not scared? That's very brave of you."

"Being brave isn't not being scared, daddy. It's being scared and knowing what you have to do and doing it anyway."

"Mycroft, have you been watching Doctor Who with Charlotte again?" Molly said with a smile. She wouldn't tell either of the others, but she already had the camera on and recording, to get before and after reaction-shots of this whole escapade.

"No, Grandpa and Uncle Sherlock have!" Charlotte said helpfully.

"Are you trying to help Mummy or are you just stalling?" Mycroft teased.

"…stalling…" Charlotte said after a pause.

"Because you're trying to make me feel better."

Charlotte tilted her head back, auburn hair almost halfway down her back as she gave a lopsided grin she got from her mother. "Yeah. I'm ready to not be afraid, but you're not letting me not be afraid 'cause you're so afraid."

Molly laughed. "You'll have to say that slower when we go back inside so I can figure out exactly what you meant."

"It means," Mycroft said as he started to shove her forward, "That she's ready to go."

Molly jogged slowly next to Mycroft and Charlotte, and soon she was losing ground behind them. "Let go, Daddy, let go!" Charlotte yelled.

"Not yet!" Mycroft said.

Charlotte pedaled faster and soon Mycroft couldn't keep up. As soon as his hands left her shoulders she was laughing. "This is fun!"

"Careful!" Molly called as she slowed to a stop.

Charlotte turned around and almost lost her balance but somehow remained upright until she got back to her parents, grinning like crazy. She slowed down and fell sideways, one leg trapped under the bike. "And that is why you wear the kneepads," Mycroft said as he lifted the bike off her.

"Can we do that again?" she asked.

A rattling came from behind them and they heard Sherlock say, "I'll race you to the bottom of the hill, and win!"

Charlotte giggled and said, "You're on!" as she hopped back onto the bike and started to pedal away with Sherlock catching up behind her.

Molly turned off the camera and said, "Let's go inside. They'll be back soon enough."

Mycroft nodded and followed her, casting one last glance over his shoulder to see Sherlock at the edge of the horizon struggling to stay balanced on an old bike he had as a kid. He chuckled. "And Sherlock will probably have scraped both his knees in the process."

Molly laughed from the door frame as she pulled her husband in for one last kiss before they approached the eagle eyes of his mother.


	7. Fighting Over Boys

**A/N: This next prompt is making me giggle uncontrollably the longer I think it through. Empire of Fiction said:**

Hey, you said you needed prompts and I don't know if you've had these yet. Could you please do Charlotte's first boy/girlfriend and her parents' reaction as well as Mycroft and Molly's first major fight with Charlotte?

**So I'm back to deliver! Let's see how this turns out. Same universe as First Day of School and Learning to Ride a Bike.**

Fighting Over Boys

Charlotte walked into the Holmes house after a particularly long week of school and dropped her back just inside the door. "I'm home!" she called into the house which she expected only to just have her mum in it. But she heard a sharp, "Don't move!" From the study and sighed.

Mycroft walked out, took one look at her, and said, "Absolutely not."

Charlotte groaned and said, "But he's really nice and when I warned him about you he didn't even flinch!"

Molly walked into the hall and asked, "Who's really nice?"

Mycroft turned to her and said, "Charlotte's started dating that Luke boy."

Molly took a second to think it over and simply said, "No."

"What?! WHY?!"

"Luke may seem nice, Charlotte, but I've seen the way he looks at girls, and as soon as he sees another you'll be forgotten. You don't deserve to get your heart broken by the likes of him."

"And his father has a long criminal record."

"Daaad…" Charlotte groaned.

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Too bad."

"Charlotte Lily Holmes you are not dating him."

"You can't stop me."

Molly looked between the two and pulled Charlotte away into her room. "Charlotte, listen. I wouldn't say this in front of your father…" she glanced up to make sure he didn't follow them before she said, "I don't think you should date Luke. I really don't. But I'm not going to stop you, and when it comes time for you two to break up, I'll be here with ice-cream and the cheesiest movies we can find to drown out the pain."

Charlotte hugged her and said, "Thanks mum. That's the closest I'll get to an understanding, and I'll take it."

"Of course, that's not going to stop your father from following you on CCTV and kidnapping Luke and interrogating him."

Charlotte laughed and said, "I know."

"Are you going to still see him?"

"Tonight we're going to the cinema."

Molly sighed and smiled. "Want me to help tame your hair before then?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay."

When Mycroft saw her leaving with her hair in a nice braid and her make-up done he was just about to object but Molly bodily blocked him just long enough for Charlotte to slip out the door unnoticed and make a dash for the bus to meet Luke outside the theatre with two tickets to see a special running of the Hunger Games Trilogy. And it was worth every second that followed.


	8. Someone Always Cares

**A/N: I felt the need to write some angst in a blacker mood, and this kind of...appeared. Sorry in advance. TW for depression and *trying to be gentle and failing* mentions of suicide/attempted suicide. I'm still writing requests, this was just kind of a request for myself.**

Someone Always Cares

Molly didn't know what went wrong. One day she was fine, the next her whole world felt shattered. Nothing even looked like it, she just got the feeling. She got up, went to work, did her job, came home. She felt numb to the rest of the world. She petted Toby as he hopped up on to her lap. _The feeling will pass soon enough,_ she thought. It didn't.

Two months went by and she felt worse. She couldn't be bothered to go out if she didn't have work; any calls from her friends were sent to voice mail and deleted. Toby occasionally came over to her to try and get her to move around, but she wouldn't do anything and after a while he'd just sit next to her and mew every so often. She knew this is what depression felt like, and she knew she had to cling to something to keep her going, but she couldn't find anything. Sherlock had been gone for a year and she didn't know when he'd be coming back, John always made her feel worse and guilty, and she hadn't seen Meena for months, and didn't want to just pop up out of the blue asking her for help and being a bother.

She scratched Toby's head and got up. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she had to go somewhere. She put on her jacket and gloves and walked outside to see snow falling gently to the ground. She barely felt the cold as she wandered the streets looking for something, anything, to keep her occupied. Eventually she just stopped and sighed. There was nothing left for her. For the first time that night she really felt the chill of the air as it stung at tears which started dripping down her cheeks. She sat on the steps of a closed shop and placed her face in her hands. At this point, she didn't even want to get up; she just wanted to sit for as long as it would take for her to just finish this useless struggle once and for all. She leaned back and watched the snowflakes fall from seemingly nowhere. After a while, she started feeling a little sleepy, but she couldn't be bothered to move. She closed her eyes and let all feeling drift away…

When she woke up the first time her whole body hurt and the lighting in the room she was in burned the inside of her eyelids. She tried cracking them open only for the light to be too bright and she had to let them slide closed again. She heard a voice next to the bed talking to someone on the phone, but she couldn't make out any words before she fell asleep again.

The next time she woke up she could actually open her eyes without feeling them burn, and even though she still felt stiff, she could turn or shift her body if she was slow and careful. She heard someone walk in the room and say, "Oh good, you're up."

Molly turned her head to see Mycroft Holmes standing in the doorway. "That was very stupid of you, you know. You almost died."

Molly groaned softly and tried to sit up. Mycroft walked over and gently pushed her back down on the bed. She gave him a glare. He sat in the plastic chair next to her and said, "Sorry, if I can't let you die, I can't risk letting you injure yourself either."

"Why?" her voice was hoarse.

Mycroft handed her the glass of water on the table but she didn't drink from it. "I promised Sherlock I'd look after his 'friends' while he was gone, and somehow you committing suicide didn't seem to fit into that category."

Molly rolled her eyes and tried to speak again, "Liar,"

Mycroft winced and said, "Please, just take a drink. You've been asleep for 2 days, you really need it."

Molly put the glass in the table with some difficulty and said, "Not until you tell me the real reason…why you did this. Making sure I didn't die is one thing…waiting here until I'm awake is…another."

Molly could have sworn she saw Mycroft blush. "Sherlock wanted to know when you woke up. As soon as I told him he was trying to think of a way to come back discreetly and make sure you were okay."

Molly realized that was the closest she was going to get to the truth. Because while that may or may not be true, Mycroft was still holding something back. She took a small sip and grimaced. It was warm and almost tasted like antiseptic smelled. Mycroft took the cup from her and stood up. "I'll see if I can't get you a fresh glass," he muttered. Just as he was about to leave, he turned back and said, "Molly? Don't forget that someone always cares. Just…get the help you need. Don't think there's one person you know who would rather want you dead."

He practically ran out of the room, blushing hard. Molly blinked. Did Mycroft…just say he cared about her? …She supposed she wouldn't know unless she stayed around a little while to find out. As soon as she was released she made an appointment with a psychiatrist to see if she could get past this place she soon found herself stuck in again. At least until she could ask Sherlock about certain things that happened…those last two sentences were the puzzle keeping her from doing anything like that again. She needed answers, and she wasn't going to stop until she got them.

**I don't like the ending, but I can't think of another way to finish this with Molly still alive. *Internal screaming***


	9. Why Q Hasn't Been Around

**A/N: So, 'tis time to go back to prompts. This one is from Random:**

Sherlock/James Bond crossover.

Molly and Mycroft have been together (secretly/openly, ever since or on/off whatever) they were pretty young, Q is their son.

**While I really don't know much about the Bond 'verse either, I suppose I should at least try, since while I feel I can't write much about certain topics that I don't know except from Wikipedia, I think I can manage a fluff piece with this…even though I have no idea what I'm doing.**

Why Q Hasn't Been Around

Molly set out the pan of macaroni while Mycroft leaned against the wall and said, "Are you sure this is okay? I mean, we haven't seen Quinten in years, what if he doesn't even want to be here?"

Molly turned to look at him and sighed. "Mycroft, the reason we're doing this is _because_ we haven't seen Quinten in years. Either he's been busy during his birthday or Christmas, or you've had to take an emergency call since he was in Uni, and we are taking the one chance we have to see him and throttling it until he never wants to see us again." She walked over and kissed him. "I've loved you since I first set eyes on you, somehow I don't think Quinten is going to feel any different about his dad. You'll be fine."

"Well if I'm going to be fine you're going to flourish."

Just then the doorbell rang and Mycroft walked over to get it. Outside were Q and another man with brown-blond hair and blue eyes. "Dad, this is the man who's been keeping me from visiting all these years. I thought it was high time he apologized."

The man held out his hand and said, "Bond, sir. James Bond." He turned his head and said, "Well, Major, to be honest this wasn't what I was expecting at all."

Q smiled and said, "Then my mom is going to make you do a double take."

He led Bond in and took Mycroft off to the side. "He doesn't know my real name. In my job I go by Major Boothroyd, and I'm the head of the 'Q' division, so he calls me Q, but that's as close as I want him to get, at least tonight. I know mom will just assume I've told him and she won't call me by name since it'll be obvious she's talking about me."

Mycroft nodded and smiled. "Glad to see you made something of yourself then, Major."

He flushed and looked down. "To be honest I wasn't sure if you'd approve since I haven't seen you around."

"To be honest I've stayed out of your way so you could make your own path in the Secret Service."

A bridge built between them, they walked into the kitchen where Bond was talking to Molly and laughing. "Q, your mother is something else!"

Molly blushed and said, "I'm really not."

"I'd have to disagree," Mycroft said, giving her a peck on the cheek. "You're most definitely something."

They soon sat down and had dinner, in a silence that was a touch uncomfortable but nowhere near unbearably awkward. Q was the first to speak, "So I'm sure you guys have questions for each other…"

Bond cleared his throat and said, "Well…what exactly do your parents do?"

Mycroft said, "I work in the British Government as well. Completely different division, though, and there's no way it's significant like Q here. Despite what his uncle Sherlock would say."

Molly smiled and said, "I'm a pathologist who works part-time at Bart's."

Bond nodded and said, "Well, since work has kept Q here from seeing you, and I'm work, I guess you know what I do."

Q rolled his eyes. "I think that would be fairly obvious to them, yeah." Bond shoved him.

The rest of the night went like that until Mycroft slipped up to their bedroom and came down with a single red box tied with blue ribbon. "You didn't tell me it was your birthday; I would have gotten you something!" Bond exclaimed.

"That's why I didn't tell you," he replied as he opened the box. Inside was a simple silver pocket watch with a cursive Q engraved on the front. Q laughed. "Wow, thanks, dad."

Mycroft smirked and said, "Well, your mother's the one who insisted on the engraving."

"Yeah, and you weren't about to object, were you?"

"No," Mycroft admitted.

Molly gave Q a hug and asked, "I don't suppose you could stay the night?"

He smiled apologetically. "Sorry, mom."

She led him and Bond to the door. "Come back sooner next time. I don't want to only see you every 5 years; I want to see you grow up."

"I am grown up!"

"Not to me you're not."

He gave her one last hug to placate her and walked off with Bond next to her. "I told you that you shouldn't have come."

"Well you were wrong. And you're family isn't weird. Your mom is sweet, and your dad might just be the most normal man I've ever met."

Q chuckled. "Oh, you have no idea."


	10. The Christmas To RememberSort Of

**A/N: So, I'm hiding in my home from people after having a breakdown in the family van after being around 50-100 people at a sport camp which I'm helping to staff, and to get my mind of it I'm writing up the next prompt submitted by jazz:**

Anyway, if you're still taking prompts, I've been looking for someone to fill this for ages:

Mycroft OR Molly has to spend Christmas with the other's family. It doesn't go as smoothly as expected.

**Let's see how this winds up…**

The Christmas To Remember…Sort Of

Molly pulled at the hem of her skirt as Mycroft drove their car to his parents' house. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked quietly.

"This is a horrible idea. We just have to play along because it was my mother's."

"You're not helping. What if they find out?"

Mycroft looked over at her and asked, "Is there a bump yet?"

"No…"

"Do you get morning sickness?"

"No."

"Then they never have to know you're pregnant and we can both leave this holiday season unscathed."

"They're going to kill us if they find out."

"Which is why they won't find out." He steals one last glance before he says, "Right?"

"Right…"

* * *

When Mycroft pulled up to the house, he opened the car door for Molly and said, "It'll be fine, don't worry."

He grabbed their shared suitcase and slammed the trunk, causing his mother to open the door to the house and rush out. Molly smiled politely and stuttered out a hello. Mrs. Holmes looked over at Mycroft, looked back at Molly, and said, "What did my son ever do to deserve you?"

Mycroft turned red and Molly smiled nervously. "He was willing to keep me company when I needed it and no one else would…" she trailed off, "In my opinion, I'm the one who doesn't deserve him," she blurted.

Mrs. Holmes smiled conspiratorially and invited them both in. Mycroft quickly put the suitcase in his old room, muttering, "It's only 2 days," under his breath like his life depended on it.

He walked into the kitchen to see Molly politely talking with his parents and he swallowed thickly. It hit him this is the first time he's brought a girl home to meet his parents and he almost laughed. He's not even remotely comfortable with this, but then again at least Sherlock didn't get here before he did and figure out some way to make this more awkward than it already was. He heard another car outside and looked out the window to see Sherlock and John fighting about something-probably coming here-and Mary between them, trying her best to stay calm riding it out. A knock sounded on the door before Sherlock opened it and stepped inside saying, "Honestly, John, everyone is already here; you don't have to knock."

"It's polite Sherlock, besides do you really want to scare everyone be sneaking silently into a room and then just start speaking?"

Sherlock crosses his arms and said, "Yes."

Molly giggled as Mary walked in and rolled her eyes. She sat down next to Molly and immediately joined in the conversation. No one even acknowledged the three men standing awkwardly near the wall. Mycroft soon just left the room and retrieved his laptop to do some work. He got relaxed on the couch in the living room before he saw Sherlock enter from the corner of his eye. "What do you want, Sherlock?"

"Molly…and you…is that…she's…the girl…?"

"Yes. Feeling uncomfortable because of that fact?" He looked up to see Sherlock looking somewhere between being sick and extremely offended.

Mycroft just sighs and goes back to typing on his laptop. "Did you know Molly's pregnant?"

Mycroft's head snapped up and he went, "What?!" not because he didn't know, but because he genuinely thought Sherlock couldn't figure it out.

"She has that same glow around her expressions Mary had when she was pregnant."

Mycroft turned white and managed to say, "Does anyone else…know?"

"Molly herself might not know. Her…um…'internal schedule' might not have brought this to her attention yet."

Mycroft closed his laptop and let his head sink into the back cushions. "The first day…" he muttered.

Sherlock was about to leave but he turned around again, a stunned look on his face. "What? Mycroft…I was joking."

Mycroft sat up and turned whiter if it was physically possible. "Sherlock…"

"She's actually-?! REALLY?! You've got to be kidding me!"

Mycroft jumped up and clamped a hand over Sherlock's mouth. "Never speak of this, ever again!"

Sherlock wormed his way out of Mycroft's grip and smiled mischievously. "Just wait until Mummy finds out!"

He dashed quickly back into the kitchen and Mycroft, thinking there was only one course of action left, ran up to hide in his old room and ride out the storm. He placed an ear to the vent near the ground, and could hear Sherlock's low voice, then silence. He braced himself, and then he hear his mother crystal clear. "Well, I suppose I should talk to him then."

He can hear the footsteps as they reach the stairs-he supposed it would be obvious he'd hide in his room-deliberately slow and measured. He stood up and smoothed out his suit as the footsteps stopped outside his door.

Everyone could hear the yelling downstairs without even straining to listen. Molly seemed to blanch, John and Mary looked over to Sherlock's and Mycroft's dad to see him wincing in sympathy, and Sherlock just stood there smiling smugly. When the yelling stopped and they heard footsteps coming back down the stairs, Sherlock simply said, "Congratulations, Molly," before gliding out of the room.

Molly turned red as everyone turned to look at her and she ran outside the house to get away from the stares. She heard footsteps behind her and felt her being hugged from behind. She turned and gave Mycroft a kiss. "Some Christmas, huh?" she asked dryly.

Mycroft sighed and nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just embarrassed. You?"

"I just got chewed out by my mother. How do you think I'm feeling?"

Molly laughed and turned around in his arms to kiss him better. Mrs. Holmes walked out and said, "You two better not be making another baby out here!"

Mycroft let his forehead rest on Molly's as he said, "No, I'm just helping Molly recover from Sherlock embarrassing her in front of everyone!"

Molly turned her head as much as she could before saying, "Trust me, we weren't planning on anything!"

"This is just a very serendipity moment," Mycroft muttered. Molly kissed him quickly after the door was once again closed. They heard a whistle from a window and saw Sherlock leaning out and smirking.

"Well, this will be a Christmas to remember," Mycroft groaned.

"…Sort of," Molly added.


	11. SherlockA Baby-Sitter?

**A/N: All right, *rolls up sleeves* another Guest is next with:**

For reasons Molly and Mycroft, due to taking a trip/something with their jobs/flu/having another baby any reason, need a babysitter for a few days

Officially Sherlock is babysitting but really their child/children are babysitting Sherlock.

**So let's get this thing going! New universe because Charlotte is going to be coming back and her list of appearances is growing long.**

Sherlock…A Baby-Sitter?

Mycroft opened the door to his and Molly's flat relieved to see Sherlock standing on the doorstep. "Good, you're finally here. Listen, Molly's contractions? They're the real thing."

"How do you know?" Sherlock asked.

"Something about her water breaking gives me a good idea."

"Oh."

"Yeah, so do you think you could watch Will while we're at the hospital?!"

Sherlock almost smirked at the desperation in his brother's voice, and then he heard Molly screaming from somewhere in the flat and sobered up instantly. "Yeah, yeah."

"Thank you." Mycroft rushed inside and moved to help Molly off the couch from where she was resting. They rushed out of the flat and Sherlock was left alone with a three-year old boy named Will sitting on an over-sized chair. "Where's Mummy goin'?" he asked.

"She's going to get your new baby brother or sister," he replied.

"Oh," the boy sat staring at his hands for a moment before asking, "When's she gonna be back?"

"I…don't know."

The boy nodded and looked around. "Uncle Sherlock?"

"Yeah?"

"Why was Mummy screamin'? Was she hurt?"

"…Yeah, sort of. Sometimes getting babies hurts."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Only girls know." He really didn't want to give a 3-year-old "The Talk" while his mom was in labor.

"'Kay…You wanna play?"

"Sure. What do you want to play?"

"…Dunno. I was hopin' you'd know somethin'."

Sherlock nodded and stood up. "Well, let me see what I can find."

He walked off into the flat with little Will trailing behind him. He spotted Mycroft's office and started moving towards it and was about to open it when Will tugged on his pant leg. "Uncle Sherlock, my room has the games, an' that's not my room!"

Disappointed his plan was for the moment thwarted; he just followed the boy to his room and watched as he opened a treasure-chest style box at the foot of his bed. He pulled out a bucket of little green toy soldiers and held it up. "Wanna?"

"Sure."

They split up the soldiers and started to line them up. Sherlock noticed Will using some tactical positions that looked official, and realized since Mycroft now worked from home for the most part, of course he'd either teach Will the real tricks or he'd pick them up on his own when they were playing together. He got a text from John. _What are you doing? I thought there was a case? –JW_

_Molly's water broke. Taking care of the nephew. –SH_

_OK. How exactly are you doing that? –JW_

Sherlock takes a picture of the play battle field before moving some of his soldiers around to take out one of Will's flanks. A minute later he gets another text. _Whose soldiers are closer in the picture? -JW_

_Mine. Why? –SH_

_I need to see this for myself. –JW_

_Why?! –SH_

_John. –SH_

_JOHN! –SH_

_John, why do you need to see it?! –SH_

Not getting a reply, Sherlock turned back to the soldiers and was shocked to see that Will had surrounded him while he was texting, even though he kept moving and attacking. Will smiled at him before completely obliterating his last defenses. A knock was heard at the door and Will yelled, "I'll get it!" dashing off to see who was there.

He leapt up and grabbed the handle, using his weight to pull it down then pushing off the wall to bring the door open. He dropped to the ground and went back in front of the door to see who it was. John was standing in the door frame. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm a friend of your Uncle Sherlock's. I texted him and he said he was here watching you?"

Sherlock finally walked out and seeing John, waved him in. John walked in and Will pushed the door shut behind him. John looked Will over and said, "You look a lot like your dad."

Will brightened and said, "You think?"

"Yeah, and I hear your mom's going to have another baby?"

Will nodded his head. "Yeah! I hope I get a little brother to play with! But I think it'd be fun to read to a little sister, too!"

John smiled. "Looks like you'll be happy either way."

Will nodded. Then he remembered what he was doing before John came to the door and rushed to his room, picking up all of his soldiers back into the bucket and bringing them out. He held it out to John and said, "Wanna play soldiers with me?"

John smiled at the boy and said, "Sure. I'm pretty sure I'd be good at it since I was a real soldier once."

Will looked up at John with a new sense of respect. "Cool!"

John sorted out the soldiers into three piles and chuckled. "I guess when you're not about to get hurt it is pretty cool."

The three took up their soldiers on the floor and started to line them up. Sherlock took the ones who in life would do the most damage and put them in the center, while John went with small groups each with the same number of soldiers in different poses, so he could take Sherlock out with a well-rounded team. He glanced over at Will and was surprised to see another commonly used formation like in the picture Sherlock showed him. "That's a good formation, Will."

The boy looked up and smiled. "Thanks. Dad used it once and beat me really quick, and I've practiced it so I can surprise him. He doesn't know I 'member all his tricks."

Sherlock looked over at John with his eyebrows raised in question. John looked back at him and nodded. Will sat looking at them, waiting patiently for them to start. After a silent debate, they turned back and started.

* * *

Mycroft walked up the steps to the apartment the next day blearily and unlocked it with his key. He stepped in and wasn't sure what he was expecting, but everything was in its place and spotless. He sighed and fell face-first on to the couch, groaning. He felt someone poke him, so he propped up on his elbows to see Will staring at him. He ruffled the boy's hair and sat up. "Hey, Will."

"Where's Mummy?"

"At the hospital. I came to get you so you could see her."

"Is she okay?"

"When I left she was resting. But she's okay, and she has a surprise waiting for you. Where's Sherlock?" He sat up.

"Bathroom."

"Ah."

"I kept him out of your office for you!" Will offered cheerily.

"He didn't do anything while I was gone, right?"

"Right!"

"That's my boy," Mycroft smirked, leaning back.

He saw Sherlock exit the bathroom and walk over. "I take it I'm dismissed."

Mycroft nodded. "I think I can take it from here."

"Up all night?"

"Yeah…but Molly requested Will be there, and who am I to deny an exhausted wife something?"

Sherlock snorted and called over his shoulder as he left, "Oh, and John wanted me to tell you that if you keep teaching Will military formations he's going to show him Marry Poppins next time they see each other."

"Consider me warned," Mycroft said, rolling his eyes. He stood up and Will jumped on to his back, saying, "Let's go! I wanna see Mummy!"

All three left the house and Mycroft strapped his son into the backseat of the car and went to the hospital, Sherlock saying he'd take a cab to bother them in a little bit. When they got to Molly's room, Mycroft knocked softly as Will ran up and climbed onto a seat next to Molly. She looked over at him and smiled. "Hey, Will," she said softly. "Did Dad tell you I have a surprise for you?"

"Yeah, what is it?" Will practically vibrated in excitement.

Molly sat up and showed Will a little blue bundle. "Say hello to your little brother."

"What's his name? I mean, I'm named after Uncle Sherlock…but is he named after someone?"

"He's named Ben."

"Hey, I said to name him that!"

Molly smiled. "We know."

Will reached out a hand, then hesitated. "You might not want to hug him, but you can touch him if you want," Molly said.

Will obliged and smiled. "I'm a big brother!" he whispered excitedly.

Molly looked over at Mycroft and asked, "How did it go with Sherlock?"

Mycroft gave her a reassuring kiss on the forehead. "Will's a better sitter than we could have ever hoped for."

Molly smiled and Mycroft took their new son from her, letting her sleep for now.

Sherlock was about to go in, but looking in on the scene he decided to let them have their moment. He could annoy them after they had some time to adjust to their new member of the family.


	12. Never Tick Off a Holmes

**A/N: Whew! Tons of prompts to sift through, you guys really must like how I write this stuff. Go Mollcroft said:**

Question/prompt, if Sherlock were to use or bring his Niece on a case or for an experiment, preferably a no damage done but still unhappy parents thing, which should Sherlock be more scared of Mycroft or Molly?

**So aside from laughing at the mental image, I'm going to get this out on paper. Personally, I don't know who he should be more scared off, Mycroft would get really aggressive, but Molly would probably get passive-aggressive, which could be much worse or much better depending on how she went about it. So let's see who wins as I write it out. Same universe as First Day of School, Learning to Ride A Bike, etc. but set before Fighting About Boys.**

Never Tick Off a Holmes

They were walking back to Baker Street before Charlotte spoke. "You do realize you're a dead man walking, right?"

Sherlock scoffed. "Please. It wasn't even that gruesome a case. Just a cover-up murder made to look like suicide. There wasn't even any blood!"

"They don't care about the blood. Remember Mum took me to work that one time. The problem I think lies in the fact you took me to a _murder scene_, where someone could have been watching and threatened everyone with a gun or a knife or something after realizing the police were on to him."

Sherlock opened the door to 221 for Charlotte and said, "Then they shouldn't have left me in charge of you. Who would be that stupid?"

"The boys at my school, for one!" Charlotte called back.

Sherlock walked up the stairs after her and they settled into 221B waiting for either Mycroft or Molly to come pick Charlotte up. She glanced around and found an old game of Operation. She held it up and Sherlock sighed. "Might as well," he replied to the unspoken question.

They started playing and Charlotte turned out to be surprisingly adept at it. "Your dad is terrible at this," Sherlock remarked.

"Yeah, well, mum's a pathologist, I'm used to doing dissections and things with her."

Sherlock tilted his head to the side and shrugged noncommittally. He heard a throat clear from the doorway and sat up from where he was trying to get the Writer's Cramp piece. Mycroft walked into the room and Charlotte grabbed her bag. "Are we going? Or at least me? Something tells me a certain someone in this room will be injured before the day is done."

"Actually, we're leaving now."

"Really? That's uncharacteristically kind."

Mycroft smiled. "Your mum will be dealing with him."

"Ooh! That's gonna sting!" Charlotte said with a giggle. She couldn't help feeling happy at the thought of Sherlock getting in trouble with Molly.

"Please, I'm not afraid of Molly!" Sherlock stated.

Mycroft shared a knowing smile with Charlotte and walked out, leaving Sherlock to wonder why he'd just leave something this big to Molly, and why both of them seemed so smug about it.

* * *

The next time Sherlock was at the morgue, he saw Molly finishing up the last corpse of the day and walked over to her. "Ah, Molly, just the person I was hoping to see…"

Molly turned around and gave him a glare that was clearly not as intimidating as she was trying to make it. Sherlock continued unfazed. "I was wondering if you had any extra eyeballs lying around."

Molly shook her head and said, "Sorry."

Sherlock was taken aback. "I thought you always had extra eyeballs. The people who get cremated-"

"They've changed some of the rules and regulations. Sorry, can't help."

"Any thumbs?"

"No."

"Feet?"

"Sorry."

"Severed heads?"

"Your privileges have been revoked."

"For what?"

"Well, if you can't take proper care of an 11 year old and you risk her getting murdered, the morgue can't trust you with human remains. They just kind of figure you'll create your own."

"Is that what this is about? Listen Molly, it's not that big of a deal…"

"Well, you may see it that way but the directors of this morgue don't. So I'm sorry, but you'll have to go somewhere else until you regain your privileges. They don't even want you _in_ here for at least another week. So are you going to leave on your own or will I have to kick you out?"

Sherlock huffed and stormed out, and it was only later that he remembered Molly was recently promoted to one of the director's positions. He pulled out his phone and texted Mycroft. _Your wife isn't letting me in the morgue. –SH_

_Good. –MH_

_I think she called Mummy too. –MH_

_?! She wouldn't! –SH_

_I heard her on the phone. –MH_

_Looks like I'm not the one you should be afraid of anymore, Sherlock. –MH_

_Noted. –SH_

_Now since I do have to keep an eye on Charlotte again next week, can you keep her from attacking me verbally/physically when I get there? –SH_

_Depends on your behavior for the next week. –MH_

_And if I don't? –SH_

_Well then I'll help her in her revenge. –MH_

_She did this on her own? –SH_

_She wouldn't even tell Charlotte. –MH_

_Good luck. –MH_

Sherlock turned off his phone and sighed. He resolved to add Molly to the list of Holmes's he should never tick off. He wasn't sure he'd survive the month otherwise.


	13. Love is Giving Up the Last Piece of Cake

**A/N: Working on the next (and next to last) prompt to while away the time for a bit. It's yet again from a Guest who says:**

Mycroft giving the last piece of cake to his toddler daughter.

Bonus for Sherlock been a troll having taken the second last piece.

**And I'm assuming that means that Charlotte is being requested for another appearance. You know the drill. Same universe as First Day of School, Learning to Ride a Bike, etc. but obviously before all of that. Let's do this thing!**

Love is Giving Up the Last Piece of Cake

It was Charlotte's first time really celebrating a birthday that wasn't her own, being 18 months old and deemed old enough to sit in a high chair at the table holding everyone else. It was Mycroft's birthday being celebrated, and Molly had stubbornly invited Sherlock over, who naturally invited John who brought Mary with him. So they had six people celebrating Mycroft turning 40. In his opinion, this was three people too many. They had simple fettuccine noodles with alfredo sauce for dinner, not that he'd admit to anyone but Molly that it was his favorite, and were now sitting around a simple chocolate cake with two slices left. Charlotte had chocolate everywhere, but was humming the first few bars of Happy Birthday contentedly, so no one was about to say anything or do anything to interrupt her. Sherlock and Mycroft had two pieces of cake each while everyone else had one, and were now having a silent battle over the last two. Sherlock reached out and took one of the slices for himself, smirking and eating half of it quickly while saving the other half. The last piece really wasn't anything more than a sliver, but Mycroft was planning on taking it before Sherlock could get to it. He had balanced it on a plate when Charlotte reached out and said, "Cay!"

Molly looked over at her and said, "You already had a piece of cake, Charlotte."

Charlotte reached out again and whimpered, then tried to undo the latch on her high chair. Mycroft rolled his eyes and smiled. "Do you want the last piece of cake Charlotte?"

Charlotte looked up and nodded.

"Say please."

"Plee?" Charlotte reached out again, looking hopefully at her father.

He placed the piece in front of her and she clapped happily, earning an "Aw," from Mary and John, and a look of surprise from Sherlock.

Mycroft looked over at him expectantly. Sherlock delivered his answer quickly. "You never give up the last piece of cake. Never. Not even when it's a dry yellow cake."

"He does it to me all the time!" Molly said.

"Sometimes love is giving up the last piece of cake, Sherlock. Besides," he said, rubbing a napkin over Charlotte's face, "Do you really think she's going to finish it?"

"Yes," Sherlock deadpanned. "She's already halfway through it."

Everyone looked over at the girl happily eating fistfuls of chocolate cake. Indeed half of it was already gone, and Charlotte didn't look like she was slowing down anytime soon. "Cake!" she exclaimed.

"Well I can see whose sweet tooth she got," Sherlock said smugly.

"I know," Molly said, "That was her first full word!"

Everyone clapped except for Mycroft who rolled his eyes. He saw a plate held up to him with a quarter of the cake still on it and Charlotte looking like she wanted to say, _You can have it if you want it._ He pushed back what little hair she had and said, "No, you have the rest."

Charlotte smiled and hummed as she finished the last few bites. "Cake," she muttered happily.

Mycroft leaned over and whispered, "Cake is good, huh?" into her ear like he was sharing a secret.

Charlotte nodded and laughed.


	14. The Christmas To RememberSort Of Part 2

**A/N: Okay…waiting for my kindle to charge so I can do work…and I figured I'd try my hand at this prompt from Guest:**

You're going to do a follow up to chapter 10, are you? ;) You should! :)

**I wasn't planning on it, to be honest, but what the heck, I have time.**

The Christmas to Remember…Sort Of Part 2

Mycroft and Molly walked back inside 10 minutes later. Mary walked up to Molly and gave her a hug. "Little bit of an odd way to find out, but Sherlock did practically announce my pregnancy on our wedding day, so don't feel too bad about it."

Molly laughed and returned the hug. "Yeah, well, just goes to show it's hard to hide something that could get Mycroft into trouble from Sherlock."

Mary whispered conspiratorially, "Don't go near John for a bit. When he realized what was going on he looked like he was going to be sick."

They both giggled. Mycroft walked into the living room and sank into the couch. "You had to open your mouth, didn't you, Sherlock?" he grumbled.

Sherlock just laughed. "Your fault for not telling the difference between a prank and an actual discovery."

Mycroft grumbled and let himself sink farther into the cushions. Molly came in and sat on Mycroft's lap. "Trying to disappear again, love?"

Mycroft lifted his head and said, "Well, I have a feeling the scolding has just begun. At least sitting like this I can be comfortable."

Molly pulled him up to a full sitting position by his tie. "Don't sulk, Myc. It doesn't look good on you."

He leant forward to kiss her. Sherlock gagged. Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Problem, Sherlock?"

"Yeah, you two. That is never meant to happen."

Molly turned to look at him and smiled. "Oh, so maybe you and I are a better pair?"

"What?" Mycroft and Sherlock said at the same time.

Molly turned to Mycroft looking him over and sending him a wink. "I guess you have a point, I mean, Mycroft is nice…and considerate…but I guess every once in a while nice and gentle doesn't cut it." She stood up and walked closer to Sherlock. "What about you? Are you exciting enough?"

Sherlock stood and backed up. "No…that's not what I meant…!"

Molly tilted her head to the side. "I think that _is_ what you meant. What, worried Mycroft's going to get jealous?" She laughed, "Come on…I wasn't thinking about doing anything down here…"

Sherlock was backed up against a wall and shuddering. "M-Molly, come on, this isn't funny…"

Molly smiled and pinned him. She stood on her toes and whispered into his ear, "Neither is tricking Mycroft into revealing I'm pregnant. Now go."

Sherlock ran out of the room and Molly sat down next to Mycroft. He smirked and said, "You've learned a thing or two from me."

Molly leaned her head on his shoulder. "Manipulation skills and being fed up are never a good combination."

"True," Mycroft said, wrapping an arm around her waist, "But now we have something good coming out of this Christmas."

"I think Sherlock was getting us 'protection' as a Christmas present before he knew it was me. Suppose that's useless now."

Mycroft laughed. "We need more Christmas dinners like this one."

"But this one is terrible!"

"A good terrible, not a 'Sherlock is being Sherlock' terrible."

Molly smiled. "I understand that. Want me to try the act on John?"

"No, I think you've done enough with Sherlock…" Molly laughed. "No, seriously, I really don't think he's leaving his room until we leave."

"We're a double threat," Molly joked.

Mycroft kissed the top of her head. "I wouldn't want this any other way."

"You're not getting my slice of my special Christmas cake."

"It was worth a shot."

"No it wasn't."

"Shut up," Mycroft muttered half-heartedly.

"Gladly," Molly said, pulling him in for a deep kiss just as John walked in the room. He promptly rushed out to find a trash can.


	15. The Woman Mark 2(point)0

**A/N: 'Nother prompt! Woah! You guys…either there aren't enough people out there taking Mollcroft prompts or for some reason my writing style is better. But I have no clue what I'm doing in terms of romantic stuff. :P Anyways, Random is back with another prompt, and I'm gonna have lots of fun with this one:**

Not really sure how to phrase this and it's kind of vague anyway, but would really like something were someone, Molly, Mycroft, Sherlock, Lestrade, Mummy Holmes any and all really, realizing that or reflecting on Molly been The Woman for Mycroft.

**I think I'll do Molly and Mycroft (obviously), Sherlock, and Lestrade or John or maybe both. This could get long, brace yourselves.**

The Woman Mark 2.0

**Mycroft's POV**

The day she left their house was the day he thought his life had ended. He didn't respond to calls for a week, let alone get out of the house. He made a cup of tea and grimaced as he realized he made _her_ favorite, not his usual kind. She left because…because…well, he didn't know why. She was there one day and the next she was distant. Then he tried to see if something was wrong, and she said no. And that was a problem, apparently, for her. How was that a problem? He took another sip and shuddered, pouring it down the drain. He went to his study and sat down inside, but couldn't bring himself to do anything. He just sat. Sherlock had Irene Adler as a crutch, and wound up paying for it, despite Mycroft's warnings to stay distant. But he now knew it was hard to stay distant when you were hopelessly in love with someone. Yes, Sherlock may have had Irene, but Mycroft had Molly Hooper. "_The_ Woman," he chuckled. "Very clever, Sherlock. I can certainly see why that applies…" he pulled out his laptop and opened his e-mail. He sent out a message saying that Molly's surveillance status could be dropped to minimum again. He wouldn't need to keep an eye out for her anymore.

**Molly's POV**

She thought she did the right thing when she left, and she didn't see him for a while after that. But that one time…Sherlock needed his help for a case, and they both came to the morgue…and he was polite, civilized, even. But Molly could see in his eyes, it was all just a show. He was dead inside, just a shell of the person she'd left. As soon as he left after he told Sherlock what he needed to do, Sherlock turned to look at her. "Do you have any idea what you did to him the night you left?"

"This is the first time I've seen him since then. He looks like…you that one Christmas with that…woman."

"Irene Adler?" He practically spat the name. "She's different from you. And believe me, that's a very good thing. You don't mess around with The Woman and be the same man you were before."

He left without another word. Molly thought about it. The Woman…could she have been that way to Mycroft? She didn't think she had that much weight with him. Maybe she was wrong. But either way, she wasn't going back. They didn't work anymore. And that was that.

**Sherlock's POV**

"So where's Mycroft then? Haven't heard from him in a week, that's a bad sign," John said.

"Busy."

"Busy?"

"Sulking, I imagine."

"Why would Mycroft sulk?"

"The Woman."

"What? Irene Adler?"

"No, but his version of her." Sherlock sighed and looked out of one of the windows.

"Who would that be?"

"Molly."

"Molly. Molly Hooper? That Molly?!"

Sherlock nodded. "He let her in, and she broke his heart. I imagine he's just trying to pick up the pieces now…"

"Why would Molly be that way for him?"

Sherlock didn't respond. Mycroft had needed someone, and had gone to Molly. But when she realized it wouldn't work, she just left. And he knew that the people with the hardest outer walls had the most sensitive hearts. And Molly had gone through Mycroft's walls only to break his heart without reason was a near fatal blow for him. She was The Woman because he trusted her, and she had betrayed that trust. The Woman 2.0. That's what she was, Sherlock decided. Maybe he'd send Mycroft a text later. Maybe go so far as to call. But space was required now. And Sherlock was more than willing to allow that.

**John's and Lestrade's POV**

Sherlock didn't respond, leaving John a little confused. Not that there was anything new there. He decided to text Greg.

_Heard from the British Government lately? –JW_

_No. Why, what happened? –GL_

_Sherlock says Molly. –JW_

_Makes sense. He did trust her more than he trusted anyone else, and then she walked out on him…Poor bloke. –GL_

_Sherlock is calling Molly The Woman, except for Mycroft. –JW_

_Again, no surprise there. She broke him. However unintentional it may be. –GL_

_Do you think she'll ever go back to him? –JW_

_No. –GL_

_I don't either. –JW_

_What do we do? –JW_

_Don't bring it up to him, if he wants to talk about it, he'll talk. I might take him to a pub to get the full scoop and report back. –GL_

_You'd take him to a pub?! –JW_

_I've done it before. He drinks so heavily he can have a couple glasses of hard whiskey and still be near sober. That guy has an iron grip on lucidity. –GL_

_So, basically, he's your designated driver. –JW_

_I'll get him drunk this time. Maybe it'll help him. –GL_

_From what I can tell, there is no help when you've fallen in love with The Woman. -JW_


	16. The Only Child and The Discovery

**A/N: The next prompt is from lilylaurence who asked:**

Question: Is there a reason for Charlotte being a single child (like Molly having medical issues) or does she get a baby sibling when she's a teenager? Fluffy or angst - I'd love to know that story. Keep the good work up! :) ! lily

**And while the only reason is quite simply I felt Charlotte worked better as an only child, I can provide a backstory for it if that's what's needed. Same universe as First Day of School, Fighting About Boys, Love is Sharing the Last Piece of Cake, etc. Angst and feels in this chapter. You have been warned.**

The Only Child and The Discovery

Charlotte walked out of school that one day, a question eating her from the inside out. She kicked at the ground and found a decent sized piece of gravel, then chucked it at the nearest CCTV camera. It swiveled around to see her, and she signed, _Dad. You, me, and mom. 15 minutes. Period._

The camera turned back to where it was, and she turned to the road as a black car pulled up. When she opened the door, Anthea was inside, off her Blackberry for once. "You threw a rock at CCTV."

"Yeah."

"You never use that to get anything, period, and you make sure someone's keeping a close eye on you for weeks after this because of one meeting?"

"It's an important meeting," Charlotte shrugged. "What, did I interrupt a more important meeting?"

"Your dad was about to mediate discussions between two highly volatile nations-"

"When is he not?"

Anthea sighed. "You know I'm going to find out sooner or later, right?"

"It's just a balance of probability. But it's a very high, very _life-changing_ balance of probability." Charlotte looked out the window. "And I need to know what's going on in a place where I can't just be ignored."

"You can be dismissed," Anthea countered.

"But not ignored. See? I've learned the ropes."

Anthea rolled her eyes and smiled. "There are people who have been in the government for years and they still don't know the ropes."

"Yeah, well, not everyone has Mycroft Holmes for a dad."

"Does that mean you've had to learn the loop holes from a very young age or you've inherited some genes that give you a predisposition for a higher IQ?"

"Exactly."

"You people…" Anthea said, getting out her phone.

The car slowed to a stop and Charlotte got out. She walked past every security guard in Mycroft's office building like she owned the place. They'd learned long ago that if she looked determined, it was best to stay out of her way. She walked into Mycroft's office where he was already sitting at his desk waiting for her. "Where's Mum?" it came out more of a demand then a question.

"3…2..." Mycroft counted down, "1…"

Molly walked in with a mug of tea. "So, what's this big emergency?"

She caught the look on Charlotte's face and she whitened. "Charlotte, what's wrong?"

"Am I an only child?"

"What are you talking about? Of course you are!"

"Don't lie to me. I know that doctors don't do C-sections for preemies for just anything. I'm perfectly fine, and you've said every time I asked that despite being born early, there weren't any major complications _with me_. There was another baby, wasn't there?" She looked between her parents' stricken faces.

Mycroft took a deep breath before saying, "Sit down, Charlotte. There are things we need to explain to you."

* * *

Mycroft and Molly were at the pregnancy clinic, talking about anything and everything except what needed to be talked about. Finally, Molly asked, "So, do you think we've finally done it?"

Mycroft sighed. "We've tried everything short of having the doctors grow one themselves to put in you. If this didn't work, then nothing we can do will."

"Mycroft-" Molly started to say, but just then the doctor waved them into her office.

Closing the door behind them, the doctor smiled and said, "Well, Mrs. Holmes, you most certainly are pregnant."

Molly laughed and Mycroft sighed in relief. "There is, however, one thing we'd like to warn you about…" the doctor continued.

Molly looked concerned and said, "By all means, tell me!"

The doctor motioned to the couple to follow her, and she led them to an ultrasound room. "It's better if I show you."

They set up the ultrasound and the doctor turned it on. Mycroft's breath caught. "Is that…?"

The doctor looked at him and nodded. "It appears you have _two_ children coming instead of just one."

"Twins…" Molly said breathlessly. "Is there any way to tell their genders yet?"

"Nothing is certain, but I believe you are going to have a boy and a girl."

Molly smiled up at Mycroft. "Are you okay with this?"

"Yes, just nervous for your sake."

"I'll be fine, Mycroft. I know we've had some trouble before, but I think these two might just be the ones who make it."

* * *

"So, wait…I have a secret brother that you never even told me about?!"

Mycroft and Molly said nothing. "Unbelievable," Charlotte muttered. "So what happened? Did you only want one kid and left him in the hospital or out on the streets to fend for himself? Or did you show mercy on him and just leave him at an orphanage?!"

Molly cringed and said, "None of the above."

Charlotte's eyes widened and said, "You didn't get-?!"

"No, Charlotte, we did not abort him." Mycroft intervened before Charlotte could even finish the thought. "Please don't skip to conclusions about anything just yet. At least hear the rest of the story first."

Charlotte huffed but let them continue, grudgingly curious about what happened to her brother.

* * *

It was 1 AM when Molly woke Mycroft up. "Mycroft…Mycroft! Wake up, I think I'm in labor!"

Mycroft startled awake and said, "Labor?! But you're not due for a month and a half!"

Molly's breath was quick as she said, "Well, explain that to these two! I think they've just gotten too big to be in there together!"

Mycroft nodded and helped her get up and to the hospital. The car ride was silent except for Molly's shallow, quick breaths. They got to the hospital and were immediately shown to a room. Their doctor came in and said that they could try a natural birth, but it could cause all sorts of complications for Molly and the twins. Molly told them to do a C-section instead and soon a baby boy and girl were both crying madly for their mother. However, it was soon clear that the two newborns had several problems, and were put in pediatric intensive care. Charlotte lasted the night; the brother, sadly, did not.

* * *

Charlotte sat in stunned silence as she let this new information sink in. "You never tried again…?"

Molly sighed and said, "They found out later that I had some scarring that prevented safe child-birth. We didn't want to risk losing another child."

Charlotte swallowed thickly and nodded. "You just didn't know how to tell me…it wasn't a big secret, it was just a sensitive issue…" she nodded again and blinked back tears. She took a shuddering breath and stood. "Okay, okay…no, you know what? It's not okay." She shook her head.

Molly came over to her and gave her a hug. Charlotte cried silently over her lost brother, then stepped back, rubbing her eyes. Mycroft stood up and said, "I need to show you something," leading her out of the office, texting someone as he did so. They walked in silence for a few blocks before stopping in front of a cemetery. She shook her head. "I don't want to," she muttered.

Mycroft opened the gate and said, "No one does. But it's time you saw."

They walked inside and stopped in the middle in front of a simple black headstone that said, "Michael Isiah Holmes" and a birthdate. Charlotte fell to her knees and started choking back tears. She was 15, she didn't want to deal with death like this for years. Mycroft leant down and gave her a hug as she started to sob. She never knew him, and that was what made it the most painful. When all her tears were spent, she stood up and took a shaky breath. "I want to go home now," she whispered.

Mycroft nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked out to a waiting car. When they got home, Charlotte wandered down to her room, and just sat on her bed for a while. Then she went over to her desk, and quickly made an origami lily, writing her brother's name on it. She pinned it to her wall and collapsed on her bed, falling asleep quickly from the events of the day. Molly came in to check on her, and saw the lily over her bed. She smiled. She and Charlotte talked about it the other day. When someone she loved died, she'd make an origami lily to remember them, writing their name on it, and hang it in her room as a sort of memorial of how they changed her. She closed the door again, leaving Charlotte to her rest. They could talk more tomorrow.


	17. The Cherry Blossoms

**A/N: No prompt, it's just me again. Feel like a little cute fluff…and miscommunication, haha. So…shall we get started?**

The Cherry Blossoms

Molly was stuck in her routine and feeling particularly bored, so she decided to go out to a café for lunch for a change. It didn't do too much, but she felt a little refreshed when she went back to her office to check her afternoon jobs and she saw it. A simple pink flower on her clipboard. But not a live flower, an origami flower. A cherry blossom, if Molly wasn't mistaken. She picked it up and examined it closer. It looked like it was pressed, and was made of thin pink paper, not quite like tissue paper but very close. She turned it over to the back and didn't see anything written on the folds, or any other evidence of a hidden message. She made a half-huff, half-grunt, deep in thought, and placed it back on her desk. She didn't think of it again until she was leaving work and took it back to her house. Then she did a closer examination. From tip to tip, it looked to be 17 ½ cm (just short of 7 inches), and was a rose-pink. There were a few quick strokes of red paint near the center, to make it look a little more real. She shrugged, and placed the flower on the center of a low table, placing the small bowl she had there over it. She smiled. It looked nice. She made dinner, watched a little TV, and went to bed.

The next day she went to work again, and all thoughts of the origami cherry blossom had disappeared from her mind. When her lunch break came again, she quickly went to the canteen and brought back a sandwich to her office to eat in private. She sat down at her desk and started. There was another cherry blossom. She looked at it closely. It appeared to be the same size and color of the previous one, but the folds seemed a little surer, a little sharper. She looked closely at it, but still couldn't see anything besides the paint strokes on it. She placed it back on the desk, and quickly ate her lunch. Then she went to security and asked them to keep a keen eye on her office to see if anyone came in while she was gone getting her lunch. They looked over the tapes but can't find anything, so Molly went back to work, a little disturbed at the thought that someone could get into her office without being seen on camera and drop off an origami cherry blossom on her desk all without anyone noticing. And if they could do that, what could they do if they wanted to hurt her, or worse? She tried to get back to work, but by the time her shift was done, she was shaken enough to take a cab and lock her house door as soon as she was inside. This intruder was really getting to her. She shouldn't automatically assume the worse. With luck, whoever was breaking in to her office would stop since she contacted security. That was the only thing keeping her from being too frightened at this whole situation.

The next day at lunch she got another cherry blossom. But this one had writing on the folds. _You shouldn't have called security._ She almost screamed. This had officially gotten out of hand. She gingerly picked it up and the other side said _I just want to talk._ She threw the flower down like it had just caught fire for no reason. She pulled out her phone and sent a text to Sherlock. _Sherlock, I need your help. –Molly_

_Why do you need my help? –SH_

_I think someone may be stalking me. –Molly_

_Hm…-SH_

_Should I come over or can you come here? –SH_

_Scratch that, I'll come to you. –SH_

Molly sighed and stepped out of her office to get some air. It only took 5 minutes for Sherlock to get to her, John on his heels. Sherlock got to her and she stuttered out, "I-in m-my office…it's b-b-been showing up f-for three days…"

Sherlock went in and John tried to keep her calm. "I only touched the flower," she called in after a minute.

Sherlock walked out with it and asked, "Where has it showed up?"

"On my c-clipboard. This is the f-first time there's been writing."

Sherlock hummed in thought. John looked over at him. "Anything?"

"We're looking for someone who's ambidextrous, but he doesn't use the opposite hand much, if at all, so the pen feels odd in his grip, making the letters a little shakier, but still better than most."

"He?"

"Obviously."

"…Obviously."

Molly rolled her eyes at the two. Sherlock looked over at her and stated, "Well, someone's definitely interested in you."

John took the flower and examined it for himself. He sniffed it and wrinkled his nose a bit. "It smells like cologne."

Sherlock took it back and took a good sniff. "Sandalwood, if I'm not mistaken."

Molly laughed sarcastically and said, "Great, someone's stalking me, sending me origami cherry blossoms somehow without any cameras catching him, and sending threatening messages to me through said flowers, but at least whoever he is has good taste in cologne!"

John snickered and Sherlock sighed. "I'll find out whoever's doing this, Molly. Don't worry."

Molly smiled. "I know you will."

"If you want someplace safe to stay, Sherlock never uses his bedroom," John offered.

Molly smiled and said, "I'd like that, thanks."

* * *

Molly took the rest of the day off, packing up some of her clothes and asking if the neighbors could cat-sit Toby while she was gone. Then she headed off to Baker Street and John directed her to Sherlock's room. She sat down on the bed, looking around. It didn't seem to be used much, there was only a poster of the periodic table to show that someone actually came in and used this room from time to time. She placed her suitcase at the end of the bed and walked back out. John saw her walked over, saying, "I'll just put the kettle on then, I guess?" he walked up close and said, "Sherlock's going through everyone we know knows you and your schedule enough to pull something like this off. Might want to stay out of sight for now."

Molly nodded and asked, "Would anyone see me on the steps leading above the living room?"

John thought about it and shook his head. "Not unless they were really looking and the door was open too much."

Molly smiled at him as he dropped the kettle, spilling hot water everywhere and causing a distraction for her to slip into the stairwell unnoticed. It looked like they were interviewing Greg to see if he knew anything. They asked a few more questions before Sherlock dismissed him. He walked past her not even realizing she was there. Several more people came and went, and Molly thought they were no closer to figuring out who had sent her the flowers than when they started, but then Sherlock called her in. He had her sit on the couch and started to pace, looking at the wall behind her. She saw he had plenty of sticky notes taking all the deductions on the flower across it, and a few printed articles, and several receipts, as well as a pamphlet for the cherry blossom festival held in Washington DC in America. She watched Sherlock pace for a while before she finally asked, "Sherlock…do you have anything?"

He looked at her like he was noticing her for the first time. "I think I know who's been sending you those flowers. But I want your help to catch them."

"Okay…how do I do that?"

"I'm going to call him in. All you have to do is close and lock the door behind him. John will be taking care of the fire escape outside my room, then we can get to the bottom of this."

Molly nodded and Sherlock quickly sent a text, then directed her behind the door. John went to Sherlock's room to secure the fire escape. Soon they heard rushed footsteps up the stairs and Mycroft ran in, panting. Sherlock was sitting in his seat with his violin, the picture of calm. "Hello brother dear. Have a seat." Sherlock gestured to the chair opposite.

"Sherlock, what's going on? Why did you send me a text saying you were in a potentially life-threatening position and needed my help?"

Sherlock sighed and said, "While it's true that someone here felt that there life was in danger, we're not talking about my life."

"I'm leaving." Mycroft made for the door and Sherlock nodded to Molly, who closed the door and bolted it, leaning against it. Mycroft just turned towards Sherlock's room, when he saw John exit, gun drawn and pointed at him.

Mycroft turned back to Sherlock who merely gestured towards the chair again and repeated, "Have a seat."

Mycroft walked over to the chair and sat down. Sherlock gestured to the wall where he had everything pinned and said, "Do you know what all of this is?"

"I might, if I didn't have a gun pointed at my back making me sit in this chair," Mycroft said darkly.

Sherlock gestured for John to put the gun away. John sighed but obliged. Mycroft got up and went over to the wall. His eyes didn't pick up the information one piece at a time, but took in several connections at once and then put it together in his mind in a more organized manner. He turned around and saw Sherlock had made an origami cherry blossom. "Busted. Someone evidently liked the cherry blossom festival while meeting the Americans, hm?"

Mycroft turned crimson. "What are you talking about, Sherlock? One of your cases? Are you saying I'm some sort of killer? And my weapon of choice is a paper flower? A paper-cut killer?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "No, I'm saying you've left these on Molly's office desk during her lunch breaks, and she's convinced that someone's stalking her."

Molly wouldn't meet Mycroft's gaze as it turned on her. Then she couldn't take it and looked up, saying, "Well, wouldn't you be concerned if someone came into _your_ office leaving paper flowers and not showing up on the security system?"

"Yes," Mycroft said, "Because you need a special keycard to access _my_ office."

John started toward everyone and asked, "So why did you do it?"

Mycroft turned crimson again and fell into a coughing fit. "No reason," he choked out.

"Unbelievable," Sherlock said, eyes wide. "Un. Believable. You have a crush on Molly and you don't have the guts to tell her?!"

Molly's eyes widened and Mycroft turned redder, if that was physically possible. "I will murder you, Sherlock!" he yelled.

Molly covered her mouth as she started to giggle. Then her whole body started to shake, and she could barely stand upright because of the laughter. She moved away from the door for a second, which Mycroft used as he unlocked and opened the door just enough to slip through. He ran down the stairs and out the door, feeling his cheeks burning almost as much as the back of his eyes. He bit his lip to keep the humiliation at bay until he was alone. He went to the Diogenes and hid in his private office there as he realized he was crying. There was a knock at the door and a butler appeared. "Pardon me, Mister Holmes, but someone brought a package for you."

He took it without even glancing at the man who came in. The man stopped in the doorway and looked back and Mycroft sent him a hard glare. "What? What do you want?" his voice cracked at the end. The man ran out and Mycroft ran a hand over his face. He hadn't lost his composure in years, why did it have to be today of all days he had to break that streak? And in front of Sherlock, no less. He'd live to regret today.

Eventually he opened the package and saw an origami flower crown. _I was curious the other day and learned how to make these. Don't let Sherlock get to you, the flowers are sweet, albeit a little disturbing to think about how they get delivered. xoxoMolly =)_

Mycroft smiled and put the flower crown on his head. He chuckled and removed it, coming up with a plan of action for the next day.

* * *

Molly was back at work the next day, though still living in 221B under Sherlock's insistence until "everything blew over." She was walking to lunch when she saw Mycroft walking up to her, the flower crown she made on his head and holding another blossom, this time not an origami one. He held it out to her and she laughed. "I didn't think you'd actually wear it!"

He tucked the real cherry blossom behind her ear. She giggled like a school girl as she stood on her toes to kiss the man on the cheek. "Want to come to lunch with me?"

Mycroft smiled-not one of his fake smiles, or a cruel smile, a smile of genuine pleasure and happiness. "I'd love to," he replied.

The flower-covered couple continued out to lunch, and then the next day, and the next day. And soon enough it became an inside joke when one of them sent the other a cherry blossom. They'd not only be sending flowers that'd last, but they'd be saying 'I love you but don't want to tell you' with each one. And every time they got the flower, they'd joke with the other about making them say I love you out loud for the world to hear in public. And they wouldn't want it any other way.


	18. That Came Out Wrong

**A/N: So, next up is a request by Van39MaxKatAlex4, who requested:**

Also could you do a story where Molly gets kidnapped and Mycroft comes in and is like Batman beating everyone up?

**Fair warning: the "a" key on my keyboard has been a little stubborn, so I apologize for any typos that I don't catch! Oh, and also, a bit of dark!Mycroft, so…yeah.**

That Came Out Wrong

Molly had been kidnapped. That's about all she knew of her situation. She had been kidnapped off the street after work and she'd been bound and blindfolded. She had the blindfold off now, and she was working to undo the ropes tying her to an old card table. She got them untied just as she heard gunshots. She quickly sneaked out of the room she was in, and found herself on the second level in a familiar warehouse where she and Mycroft had gone on dates before they were engaged. Now they mainly stuck to restaurants and movie nights at home. She couldn't see anything that was going on, but she heard a few more shots, so she found an old nook Mycroft had shown her once and hid behind it, trying to calm her breathing enough so that she could hear what was going on. There was another gunshot before everything became silent. Then there was a grunt and a thump, like a body hitting concrete. She heard someone laugh and say, "You're skills are impressive, Mr. Holmes. But do you think that they're enough to beat me and rescue your fiancée?"

She peeked out into the main area and saw Mycroft panting and glaring down at one of her kidnappers. The man was blocking most of the view, however, so she couldn't see the majority of Mycroft, or that there was a gun in his hand. He fired square into the man's shoulder before knocking the butt of the gun on his head. Molly hid back in the corner before she could get a good look at him, but she could hear him say, "You don't need many skills to fire a gun point-blank, or to knock someone out by swinging it hard. Clearly something they don't teach kidnappers anymore."

Molly heard more grunting and thought she could have heard some knives hitting the ground. She heard some frantic footsteps and Mycroft calling for her, before he stopped, seeming to realize there was only one probable place she could hide and walked over to her. She screamed as she saw him covered head to toe in blood. "Don't worry, it's not mine!"

Molly covered her mouth with her hands and shook her head. "That came out wrong…" Mycroft said before focusing back on her and asking, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, crying a little from the frightening sight in front of her. "You're absolutely…soaked…in blood…" she muttered.

Mycroft nodded. "Some is mine, but most is from broken noses, spattering gunshots, and a few quick swipes with a knife…And I just did it again, didn't I?!"

"Little bit," Molly managed.

"Well," Mycroft said, eyes drifting everywhere, "I can help you up or you can come out of there on your own…um…Sherlock is outside with half Scotland Yard, so…my…ah…appearance is going to come into question and I'd appreciate it if you didn't flinch every time you heard about it…" he shook his head. "If it would make the mention of this at all more comfortable, then…" he trailed off and asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Molly nodded and got out of her hiding place, standing up and hugging herself tightly as she did so. "I might be in a bit of shock, but otherwise I'm okay."

They walked out together and were quickly separated in the surging crowd. Paramedics took Molly off, while officers held back Mycroft to figure out exactly why he was covered in blood. John came over to her and asked her in no uncertain terms what exactly happened in that warehouse. Molly just shrugged and said, "I was hiding during most of it. But I know that Mycroft can be very protective of people he loves. I wouldn't put murder past him if I actually got hurt instead of just being tied in a back room…"

John did a double take and Molly blushed and said, "That came out wrong…!"

"A lot of things seem to," Mycroft said as he walked up and sat down next to her on the back of an ambulance. "But that hasn't stopped us yet, has it?"

"Thankfully no." Molly smiled. "I'm ready to go home, are you?"

Mycroft sighed. "Yeah, I just have to make a statement first."

"Might want to leave out the fighting with guns and knives," Molly pointed out.

"What?!" John yelped.

Both of them turned as if they'd forgotten he was there. "It's nothing, John, really," Molly tried to reassure him. "Mycroft just gets a bit overprotective sometimes."

"Hey, I found you, didn't I?!"

"Yes, and I'm glad you did. I just could have gone without your Batman mode."

"'Batman mode?' What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, love." Molly rolled her eyes. "Just make your statement so we can go home."

"How do I explain the blood?"

"Say…um…say it's not blood, say it's actually brick dust and mud from the ensuing fight in the warehouse."

"Well, that's at least one thing that can't come out wrong." Mycroft got up to leave but Molly grabbed his arm. "Thanks for rescuing me."

"What sort of fiancé would I be if I didn't?" He kissed her cheek. "I'll be right back."

"Oh, and be sure to start the statement by saying, 'Don't worry, it's not my blood!'" Molly called as he walked away. He over-dramatically hung his head and turned around to fake-glare at her. "That just came out wrong!" he called back as she laughed. He knew she'd never let that one go.

**You guys have no idea how many times my friend has laughed at things I've said when I don't think them through in my head first.**


	19. Matchmaker, Matchmaker

**A/N: This next prompt is from Guest who asked:**

Sherlock seeing the benefits of Mollcroft (for them or himself or both) Sherlock does what he can, overtly and covertly make the start of the relationship easier.

Example: Solving case that are 1-2 so Molly finishes work quicker to pointing out to Mycroft oh so causally while a certain tactic/manipulation might work on most (overpriced flowers/jewelry etc.) Molly maybe not so much.

**And I see potential for a lot of humor. Which is good seeing as how a lot of the stuff I write has either been extreme fluff or angst and there hasn't been much in between. I need to write more domestics, and this is borderline so it's good practice. Allons-y!**

Matchmaker, Matchmaker

"Mycroft needs a girlfriend."

Sherlock hadn't spoken in 3 hours so when he finally did speak-and about this, no less-John jumped and had to hesitate a second to let that sentence sink in before he could even think about a suitable reply. "And where did this thought come from, then?"

Sherlock looked over at John for the first time that day and said, "The way he's obsessed with his work and nothing else he won't last 5 years. And while most of the cases he brings me are trivial, occasionally he can find a 6, or even that one time he found an 8. No one else would even consider coming to me with that."

"What about Lestrade?"

"Most of his cases are only 4s or 5s. He doesn't understand my system."

"And Mycroft does?"

"He knows when I can take cases just for the distraction and when they need to be interesting. That saves a lot of time that could be used for other, more important things."

"So…who're you going to set him up with?"

"Mm…what about Molly?"

John choked on his tea. "Woah. No, no! If you set up Mycroft with Molly, leave me out of it! I don't want any part of that!"

Sherlock crinkled his brow. "Why not?"

"Do you really think she'd like Mycroft? He's like…you, except he's subtler with the disdain and insults."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It doesn't need to be for too long, just one or two dates."

"Still, I want to be kept out of it."

"Just don't text either of them what I'm doing and you won't have to be part of it."

"Deal."

* * *

Molly was a little concerned about Sherlock. He'd been coming in every day there was a body for any case lately, even if it was only a 1 or a 2. When she confronted him about it, he simply shrugged and said, "Not my fault there hasn't been an interesting case in ages," and glided out the door.

Molly pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to John: _Is Sherlock looking/feeling okay to you? Molly_

_He's seemed a little stir-crazy, but I think he just needs a good case. Why has he done anything to you? –JW_

_Just made it so I can usually get home by 4. It's weird, he's even taking the cases he calls 1s and 2s. I have too much free time and no idea what to do with it!_

_Do you want me to talk to him?_

_Maybe. Not that I don't enjoy getting off early, I'm just worried about what's driving _him _to do it._

_I'll talk to him._

John put down his phone to see Sherlock walking into the flat. "So you're playing matchmaker now? Molly texted me," he continued before Sherlock could say anything, "That you've been freeing up her schedule quite a bit taking on all the cases that get thrown her way."

Sherlock shrugged. "I thought you said you didn't want any part of this."

"I never thought you'd actually go through with it!"

"So do you want to help me?"

John got an image of Molly and Mycroft on a date and tried his best not to shudder. "They would never work as a couple."

Sherlock sighed. "They don't have to work for more than 2 weeks. That's plenty of time for me to get in a good case or two."

John picked his phone back up and sent a quick text before putting the phone back down and checking if Sherlock even noticed. Thankfully he was too busy ranting. When he looked back over, John and the phone were in completely inconspicuous positions. "So what are you going to do now?"

"…Go to Mycroft's. Convince him to go on a date with Molly. Keep my fingers crossed that they hit it off."

John just nodded. He knew Sherlock would know he warned Mycroft about this as soon as he proposed the idea. John just hoped Sherlock would make him do anything huge in this game he was playing.

* * *

Sherlock didn't even put a foot in Mycroft's office before he said, "I'm not going on a blind date, Sherlock."

Sherlock opened his mouth slightly before he realized John went back on his word and replied, "As nice as your offer is, I don't want to go on a date with you."

Mycroft looked up, annoyed.

"I was going to ask you…" Sherlock continued, biting his lip. "For some help on a case."

Mycroft finally put down all his work. "I'm listening…"

Sherlock quickly racked his brain for more. "The case involves a certain…um…'third party' that you would probably prefer to oversee…I mean, I know a lot about this sort of thing, but…well…you work with her and…" Sherlock thought this whole thing was starting to go downhill.

Mycroft sighed. "Who is it?"

Sherlock glanced around, and realizing he had no one to pin this on at the moment, came up with another split-second excuse. "Considering we're in your less-secure office I'd rather not say."

"When do you need me, and where?"

"I figure tomorrow afternoon at the Yard I'll have her for an interrogation."

Mycroft nodded. "Fine. I'll clear my schedule. Don't do anything stupid before then."

Sherlock nodded and left, sending a text to Greg. _Need an interrogation room tomorrow afternoon for 2 suspects in a case. –SH_

_No._

_Please? –SH_

_Only if I oversee the whole thing._

…_This is where you say "thank you," mate._

_Oh. Thank you. –SH_

* * *

Sherlock flopped down on the couch back at Baker Street. "John, I need you to trick Molly into coming to Scotland Yard tomorrow afternoon."

"No, Sherlock. I already told you I wouldn't help you."

"And you agreed to not tell either of them my plan. Now you've warned Mycroft and the entire game changed. You're helping me play Cupid. Now. Text Molly. I don't care what you tell her, but she needs to be in an interrogation room at the Yard tomorrow before Mycroft."

John looked over at Sherlock, not sure if he was serious. "Or I could always post that video of your drunk karaoke Greg forwarded to me." John blanched and sent out a text.

Sherlock smiled and contemplated how he was going to set everything up tomorrow.

* * *

John was walking Molly down the hallway to the interrogation room. "So remember, it's just a conference about the Moriarty…situation, nothing to worry about."

"You say that and you sound really worried," Molly said as they kept walking.

John sighed. "I know. I just don't want to think about Moriarty anymore, then he's suddenly back in our lives, and we have this huge panic. It's insane."

Molly nodded and they stopped outside the door. "I have to go find Sherlock and make sure he doesn't upset Sally too much. I shouldn't be too long, just go on in."

Molly nodded and smiled. The interrogation room she found herself in seemed a little darker than normal, and she started to feel concerned. Trying to comfort herself, she clung to the thought that they might need this discussion recorded, and could do so through the one-way mirror in the wall, with someone watching. She stood in a corner across from the doorway, hoping John would be back soon.

* * *

Sherlock was walking Mycroft down the same hall from the other end a minute later. His moves were tense and he kept on trying to see whether John had made it down the hall with Molly in time. Mycroft noted all this and simply thought Sherlock was irritated at the thought he could need help. But, seeing that there would be nothing he could say to make Sherlock any less wound up, he kept quiet for the time being. Sherlock practically shoved Mycroft into the room as he said, "Have fun," and went to the next room to watch what would happen.

John already had the sound turned up and Sherlock got in just in time for Mycroft's face of shock and quiet breath catch at the sight of Molly in the corner. Molly looked back at him, then glanced to the mirror in confusion. Neither of them spoke. Greg walked into the observing room asking, "All right, you two. I gave you the room, now do you mind telling me…what's…going…" Greg didn't finish, he just whipped out his phone and hit the record button.

Molly finally spoke. "What are you doing here, Mycroft?"

Mycroft put on an unreadable stare back at her and took everything about her and mentally filed it away. "Sherlock brought me here for an interrogation of a government spy. Evidently, he either brought me to the wrong room or you are a much better actress than I originally thought possible."

Molly shook her head. "Spy? John brought me to this room for a meeting about how to deal with the Moriarty situation!"

Mycroft looked up at the ceiling, finally understanding. "Oh, I see what's going on here. It seems my dear brother has set us up on a blind date." He pulled out his phone. "I got a text from John yesterday that said, _'Sherlock's trying to play Cupid for you. Thought I should warn you, even if it means Sherlock forcing me to help. –JW' _I have to give Sherlock credit, this was more than I was expecting."

Molly started giggling. "Sherlock was trying to set _us _up on a date? He doesn't know, does he?"

"I guess not." Mycroft said, catching wind of what Molly was doing and sending her a wink from the one eye Sherlock couldn't see.

Sherlock and John looked at each other on the other side of the glass. John scrunched his nose up and Sherlock looked like a teenage girl finding out about someone's first kiss. Greg continued to film this while saying, "Well, I guess we can tell who ships it and who doesn't. Have a NOTP much, John?"

John looked over at him confused while Sherlock turned back to the glass saying, "This is better than I expected it would be. I think this is what's called an OTP, correct?"

The three could have wound up in a big argument except their attention was captured by Molly saying, "So, do you think we should tell them about that one night?"

Mycroft sighed. "If Sherlock is trying to set us up, he probably already knows. Though I wouldn't know how, since I personally took him to Spain that morning."

John's jaw dropped. "Someone please tell me I'm dreaming."

Sherlock was giggling. "This is going better than I hoped it would."

"So what should we do now?" Molly asked, feeling a strange detachment from her surroundings.

"Should we give them a show?" Mycroft asked, and Molly could tell that beneath it all he was asking if they could try it out for real despite all of this. She nodded and stepped forward, pulling him into a kiss. Fireworks erupted. They could hear Sherlock cheering in the other room.

Mycroft pulled away and smiled. "Shall we go?"

Molly returned the smile and nodded. "I know this little restaurant a few blocks away. Hungry?"

"No. Let's have dinner." Mycroft offered his arm to Molly and Molly took it like she was becoming the Doctor's companion. They walked out and left without even acknowledging Sherlock following them from behind. They lost him by the time they reached the restaurant, but they hadn't lost the impression he left. Molly kept catching Mycroft humming "Matchmaker" from Fiddler on the Roof.

"A big fan of musicals?" she asked.

Mycroft shook his head. "My parents drag me to one almost every time they're in town. Sherlock is much harder to pin down."

Molly smiled and said, "Well, I'm actually a fan of some of them. Have you ever seen _Wicked_?"

Mycroft shook his head. "I know it's coming up in two weeks, though. I could…I could get tickets if you want to go…"

"You could do that? I tried to get tickets but it said they were all sold out!"

"I have 4 tickets reserved at all times because of my parents. The least I can do is bring someone along to make it even vaguely tolerable. The only one I found even remotely good was Les Miserables."

"I love Les Mis!" Molly said. "Hopefully you'll enjoy my company more than you're parents, if we go."

"Actually," Mycroft said, "My parents are coming down in time to go see it. Would you mind if they came too? My mother doesn't like taking no for an answer."

"Sure, why not. Hopefully I can make it better for you, and if not, well, whatever. We just don't have to try it again." She smirked cheekily, "And we could make out when the lights go down."

* * *

Two weeks later Mycroft was walking Molly home in the rain. They were both standing under his umbrella and smiling. "That was the best musical I've been to by far."

Molly looked up at Mycroft, "I thought you might like it. And your parents seemed ecstatic to see you brought me."

"They were beginning to worry I'd be alone for the rest of my life, I suppose."

"Well, they certainly didn't buy this was our 3rd date."

Mycroft sighed. "I know."

Molly's smile grew bigger. They stopped in front of her house just as a streak of lightning broke the sky in two. "Why don't you come in?" Molly asked. "I'd hate for you to be stuck walking the rest of the way home. I'll call you a cab."

"No, it's fine, really. It isn't too much of a walk, and I could use the exercise."

Molly was having none of it. "Mycroft, you are either coming in and letting me call you a cab, or you are coming in and staying the night."

Mycroft pulled the umbrella closer over their heads as a strong gust of wind threatened to blow it away. Molly shook her head and said, "You know what? No cab is going to get here in weather like this. You're staying the night."

The next morning Sherlock came around to ask Molly about an autopsy to find Mycroft making tea in the kitchen while Molly took a shower. He smirked and left without letting either of them know he was there. This worked out better than he could have dreamed!


	20. The Christmas Queen

**A/N: Fluff alert! Major fluff alert! This is not a drill! I repeat: THIS IS NOT A DRILL! Next up is a request from Guest, who asked,**

Could you do a Christmas dinner where they take Charlotte or Will&Ben?

Or halloween dress up?

Thank you :)

**And I have the cutest idea EVER! This will be with Charlotte, so same universe as First day of School, Learning to Ride A Bike, etc. Set after Learning to Ride a Bike, but before Never Tick Off A Holmes. I'm thinking this will be when she's 8, if you're really picky.**

The Christmas Queen

Charlotte bounded down the stairs in her grandparent's house and into the kitchen, yelling, "I'm ready!"

Everyone turned to look at her in her white dress and simple white crown, and Sherlock promptly asked, "What are you supposed to be?"

Charlotte huffed disdainfully and said, "Can't you tell? I'm a chess queen!"

"It's Christmas, not Halloween."

"Well, any holiday is a good time to dress up in my opinion, so you can go soak your head!"

"Charlotte!" Molly scolded as Mycroft burst into laughter.

"Well it's true!" Charlotte said as she grabbed a seat at the table. "And I'd love him to. We could start The Ice-Bucket Challenge: Christmas Edition!"

Molly looked over to Mycroft, still laughing, and said, "Aren't you going to help me with this?"

Mrs. Holmes interrupted with some advice. "I don't think that's a good idea until he calms down enough to show he means it." Then she turned to Charlotte. "Although that is very rude, young lady."

"Sorry, Grandma." Charlotte looked down at the table, but snuck a face at Sherlock. Sherlock reciprocated. Both of them got whacked with a newspaper.

"Stop it, both of you!"

"Sorry," both said at once.

"You had better be. One more jab from either of you and I'll send you to your rooms without dinner!"

"Hey, what is for dinner?" Charlotte asked, realizing she didn't actually know.

"You are thick, aren't you? Can't you smell?" Sherlock scoffed.

"Of _course _I can smell. Sometimes it's just hard to tell all the smells apart, stupid!"

Mycroft sighed and signaled to his mother he'd take Charlotte out of the room for a bit, slinging her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. She squirmed and struggled, but she couldn't get free until Mycroft set her down upstairs in the room she claimed as hers for Christmas. Mycroft closed the door behind him and said, "Remember how I told you not to be rude to Uncle Sherlock?"

"Yeah, and I remember you also said it was your job, but you never did anything to prove it, so I was picking up the slack."

Mycroft sighed. "Charlotte, the reason it's my job is because I know how to do it without getting in trouble."

"Well, you won't teach me how to do that without getting in trouble, so when am I supposed to do it?"

"Never." Mycroft looked over his shoulder conspiratorially and added, "Of course by that I mean you can't do it until you learn to not get caught, and I'm not teaching you because it's something you have to learn yourself. If you use the same ways I use to sneak a jab in, then I'll at the very least know, and that isn't really 'not getting caught'."

Charlotte sighed but knew she was beat. "Fine. Am I really not getting dinner?"

"I think you'll be getting dinner, I think you'll just be excluded from dessert. But one more strike and you might really not get any dinner."

"Okay. As long as I can eat something, I can go without cake."

"That's a big change from when you were one. 'Cake' was your first full word."

"I know, Dad. You tell me all the time."

"Promise to behave?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then, Christmas Queen, let's get dinner."

Charlotte smiled and ran out, humming "Jingle Bells" under her breath.


	21. That One Halloween

**A/N: October and no new Halloween requests? Guys, you're killing me. I'll be a ghost haunting these lonely sites on the Interweb forever. Oh, well. At least I'm making a one-shot for you. Your welcome. (I still love you guys by the way that was sarcasm!)**

That One Halloween

Molly looked over at Mycroft, impatiently pacing in their living room, watching the clock. Finally, she sighed. "Mycroft, why are you acting like an animal trapped in a cage?"

Mycroft just distractedly grunted and continued his pacing. "Mycroft." Nothing. "Mycroft!"

Mycroft finally snapped his head up and around. "What?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "Why are you acting like an animal trapped in a cage?"

Mycroft said, "It's Halloween."

"Yeah, it is."

"Which means _kids_ will be coming to our house."

"Yeah."

"And asking for candy."

"Glad to see you understand the concept of Halloween."

"You won't let me just turn out the front porch light and just ignore all the trick-or-treaters tonight."

"Because you haven't given me a good reason."

Mycroft muttered something under his breath angrily.

"What was that?"

Mycroft looked up and cringed as he said, "If I told you, you'd probably kick me to the curb."

Molly crossed her arms and simply said, "I'll be the judge of that."

Mycroft laughed nervously as he said, "A couple of years ago, I always had a certain fascination with wolves. One time I actually managed to get close to one, and they're not as friendly as most people would like to think…"

Molly laughed. "So, what, it's just a childhood trauma sort of thing? That's nothing to be ashamed of, and nothing to kick you out over."

"Well, that's not the problem. See, it turns out, well…you remember that seemingly deadly virus scare 5 years back?"

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't deadly, and it wasn't a virus."

Molly tilted her head to the side, brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"It was an escaped Baskerville experiment. They were trying to find a cure for werewolves or something along those lines, and they accidentally started a whole new pack." Mycroft rolled up his sleeve to show an alarmingly large bite mark.

Molly stared at him a moment, then smiled. "So, is that it? Tonight being the full moon and you being a werewolf?" She stood up. "I guess you could be concerned about that. But urges can be overcome…you do know there are other supernatural beings besides werewolves around, right? They live all over the world and no one ever knows who they are." Mycroft looked exactly like a confused puppy, and Molly laughed. "I can see the resemblance now that I know what to look for, though."

"Molly, what are you talking about?"

"You must be new to the supernatural if you couldn't tell…" she grinned, showing off a pair of fangs, "That your girlfriend's a vampire!"

Mycroft's mouth dropped open, then he quickly shut it, realizing what that must look like. "Well…I thought there was something different about you; I was just looking for…"

"…Less crazy solutions?" Molly filled in. Mycroft nodded mutely. "Well…" Molly said, looking out the window, "It's just about twilight. What do you say we leave the house and bother Sherlock, or something?"

Mycroft smiled and said, "I'd rather like that. If you give me a minute, I'll be ready."

"Go on then, Mr. Werewolf. I've never seen one of you change before."

Mycroft closed his eyes and felt his bones stretch and compress and when he opened them again, he was looking at Molly from about 3 feet off the ground. Molly grinned and knelt in front of him. Even as a wolf, the red tint of his fur meant it was unmistakably him. She scratched behind his ears and he growled and gently smacked her face with a front paw. She laughed and said, "If Toby hadn't had to been put to sleep, I bet you would have had a good time stalking him, hm?"

Mycroft growled again and then walked off to the closet and brought out a leash with a collar and threw it in Molly's general direction. She smiled and hooked it around his neck. "Shall we go then?"

* * *

Molly was walking around with Mycroft on a leash and trying her hardest not to laugh at everyone who automatically assumed that she just happened to know how to make a dog look like a wolf. She'd smile, fangs and all, and everyone would think she just had plastic fangs in. That's why she loved Halloween. It was the one night of the year no one cared if she was a vampire. Then all of a sudden, she heard someone call to her from behind. Mycroft started pulling on the leash and she picked up the pace so he didn't choke himself. She ducked into a nearby park, and she heard someone racing after her. "Hey, you! Stop! What do you think you're doing with that…with that wolf?!"

She slowed at the sound of Sherlock's voice and turned, making sure her face mainly stayed in shadow. She loosened her grip on the leash the tiniest bit, and Sherlock let out one short whistle and Mycroft walked over to him. Sherlock rubbed his head and whispered something into his ear. "Listen, I don't know who you think you are, but you can't just approach a wolf-even if it has a collar and leash-and take it off the streets. Who wouldn't get hurt as soon as it felt threatened?"

Molly lifted her face so the moon hit it and hissed through her fangs. "I think a vampire would qualify." She tilted her head and held out one hand and Mycroft ran back to her, wagging his tail like a domestic dog. "He isn't a big bad wolf. He's my boyfriend, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't belittle my skills with him."

Mycroft let out a low growl when Sherlock took a step closer. Sherlock backed up and just stated, "You're getting awfully territorial, brother dear."

Mycroft huffed, lifted his head so he was touching Molly's hand at her side and smiled. Molly picked the end of his leash up and grinned at Sherlock. "What do you think, should we continue to the hospital so I can get a drink, or should I just get one here? Fresher, if a little bit less sanitary."

Mycroft tilted his head to the side and after a moment turned away and Molly smiled apologetically at Sherlock. "Maybe next time, then." They walked off together, leaving Sherlock to wonder if this actually happened or if he had somehow gotten his hands on some crack and was actually high. It wouldn't be the first time.

* * *

The next day Sherlock felt no withdrawal, so he decided to go to Molly and Mycroft's to investigate whether what he saw last night was real. He knocked on the door and Mycroft let him in, all his questions about what was going on ignored. Sherlock walked into the living room to see Molly sipping a red liquid from a coffee mug. "Sherlock, what are you doing here?"

"Is that blood?"

"Um…yeah. Why, you taking a survey?"

Sherlock's eyes widened slightly and followed with, "So last night, that wasn't a trip? Mycroft actually growled at me when I got within 6 feet of you?"

Molly smiled. "Yeah, it's actually a bit sweet. Changing into a werewolf when you start out a human is a bit different than being born one. Until all the impulses are under control it's almost like dealing with a hormonal teenager, and teenage boys don't like to see their girlfriends getting too close to other guys, last I checked."

Mycroft stepped around Sherlock and sat down next to Molly on their couch. "I'm not like a teenage boy."

"No, you're normally like a teenage boy. Turn into a wolf and you're basically a puppy."

Mycroft rolled his eyes and then focused back on Sherlock. "Is there anything else, or did you just barge into our house to see if Molly would have fangs?"

Sherlock shook his head and dug a hand into his coat pocket pulling out a little baggie of dog treats. "Want one before I go?"

Mycroft growled and Sherlock beat a quick retreat. Molly put an arm around Mycroft and whispered, "Did you want one?"

Mycroft turned pink. Molly sniggered. "Shut up," Mycroft mumbled.

"I have a feeling in 10 years we'll still be talking about that one Halloween where Sherlock offered you a milk bone."

"Shut up!"

Molly got an evil smirk on her face as she asked teasingly, "Who's a good boy?"

Mycroft buried his face in his hands before whispering, "Is it me?"

Molly laughed and hugged him. "Yes. It's you."

"Good."

Molly rubbed his head playfully before bringing out a bag of her own. Mycroft gingerly took a dog treat and chewed it. Molly hid her smirk by hugging him tighter. "I know you're laughing at me," Mycroft said.

Molly sighed and just gave him a squeeze. "You'll get used to this eventually."

"I hope so."

"I know so. You're already house-trained, after all, not much to learn after that!"

"Shut up!"


	22. Molly and the Morning Sickness

**A/N: So, I got a PM from FreakishlyGeekilyMe pointing out something huge that made me want to facepalm myself, and gave me 1-2 solutions for it. Curious?**

You've written about the extended family finding out Molly is pregnant, but never about how MOLLY finds out that she is pregnant. **(*****insert facepalm here*)** Bonus points for her getting sick and Mycroft being really, really worried OR for Mycroft realising first and dropping subtle hints etc until she figures it out (eg. Mycroft starts renovating/redecorating one of the bedrooms)

**Molly figuring out that **_**she herself **_**is pregnant is one of those things my thick head just completely glossed over in these one-shots. Geez, I need to get my head fixed. But, 'till then, enjoy how this turned out!**

Molly and the Morning Sickness

Molly woke up that one fateful morning feeling a little bad, but overall not like she'd need a sick day. She sat up, stretched, and looked at her fiancé still out cold on the other side of the bed. A smile forced its way onto her lips as she got out of bed to make a cuppa that would hopefully help her less than happy stomach. Just as she set the water to boil, though, a tidal wave of nausea crashed over her and she had to rush to the bathroom to empty her stomach of whatever was left of last night's dinner. She sat down on the bathroom floor, not quite feeling like she was done throwing up yet. When the feeling finally passed, she flushed the toilet, washed her hands just in case, and went back to the kitchen to find Mycroft up and making them both breakfast. "You don't have to do that, love."

Mycroft looked over at her quickly and Molly could see the worry in his eyes. "I just want to make sure we get breakfast this morning, and I can't trust you not to burn the toast when you're preoccupied in the bathroom."

"How sympathetic," Molly responded drily.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and said, "Well, last time I fussed about you being sick you physically removed me from _our _room."

Molly turned away and she could feel Mycroft's lingering gaze. "I'm fine, Mycroft, really. Probably just a stomach bug."

She heard him sigh and continue on making breakfast. She saw a cup of peppermint tea on the living room table and smiled, knowing that Mycroft would probably be mother-henning her…_again_. She took a sip as she sat down in her chair, and soon Mycroft walked in with a plate filled with toast covered in Nutella. He placed it on the table and sat next to her, looking somewhat distant and lost in thought. Molly just shook her head and grabbed a piece of toast. Halfway through it Mycroft stood up, quickly went to their room, and came out a minute later, looking disturbed about something, but what, Molly couldn't tell. Mycroft looked over at her and said, "I apparently have a two-day meeting I need to go to."

Molly shrugged indifferently and smiled. "That's okay, love, I'll be fine."

Mycroft crossed his arms skeptically. "I don't know. And this isn't just a car ride away; I'm going to be in Canada."

Molly snickered. "You hate Canada."

"I hate their fake bacon. There's a difference."

"Go on. 2 days isn't so bad."

"I just hate the fact that these things always seem to happen when it's 'your time of the month' and I can't be there for moral support."

Molly rolled her eyes. "Liar. You hate being around then. Though I have to give you points for remembering the peppermint tea."

Mycroft sighed. "Sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah. Go on. Save the world, Secret Agent Man."

Mycroft kissed her cheek and grabbed a slice of toast as he went to get dressed. "You know our guest bedroom?"

Molly went along with the change in topic, knowing that there was probably just some connection or another she was missing. "Yeah, what about it?"

"It needs a fix, doesn't it? I think I noticed some rot near the ceiling."

"Your OCD is showing, love."

"Even so, I'd like to get it fixed up when I come back."

Molly laughed in surrender. "All right. Go ahead, call someone to fix up the guest room."

Mycroft walked out of their bedroom buttoning up his suit and smiled. "I'll do it on my way to the airport, then. You should probably stay home from work today, you know. Just in case you start feeling sick again."

"And there's the mother-henning again."

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Stay home, at least for today?"

Molly exaggeratedly crossed her heart and held up her hand. "Cross my heart and hope to need a post-mortem."

Mycroft kissed her one last time as he walked out. "See you Thursday."

"See you then."

As soon as Mycroft left Molly bit her lip. Something he said bugged her…but she didn't know what. She shrugged and took another piece of toast and a sip of tea. Then she realized: her period was supposed to start today, but instead she was getting sick. And Mycroft seemed really worried, then he checked the calendar and seemed concerned, but not necessarily worried…and the guest room…

Molly pulled out her phone and texted, _Mycroft, when your fake meeting is over for the day, bring back a pregnancy test for me._

_Why do I have to get it?_

_Because you're the one who is still concerned enough to make me stay home even after you've deduced that I just have morning sickness._

No reply. Molly turned to look at their guest bedroom and made to get up and get a better look at it, then she felt another wave of nausea arbitrarily hit, and she had to rush to the bathroom. _If this becomes a regular thing if I really am pregnant, I have no idea what I'm going to do, _she thought.

* * *

It was 4:32 when Mycroft and Molly dared to see the results of the test. 2 blue bars stared at them. Molly looked to Mycroft, and he looked back. Molly smiled inexplicably and Mycroft sighed, letting his shoulders untense. "Well that just happened," Molly deadpanned.

"It seems so," Mycroft said, his eyes closing. "I'm glad you're not sick, but I'm terrified of what this means."

"What, your mum killing you for not waiting until we're married?"

"No. Well, yes…" Molly giggled. "But…being parents. Just…well…"

Molly looked at Mycroft, silently urging him to continue. "What if…what if I screw up?"

"Are you forgetting about me?"

"No, I'm considering how you have the ability to pick up after my messes."

Molly laughed. "Mycroft, you're going to be a good dad. I'll be a good mum because you can help me out when I don't know what to do. After all, the little thing will have half of your DNA, and I almost never know what's going on in that head of yours."

Mycroft smiled and wrapped an arm around her. "Not true. You read me better than almost anyone, family included."

"I guess we'll do all right. We have 9 months to figure out what to do."

Mycroft nodded. "And about 3 do figure out how to deal with Sherlock and John when they find out."

Molly laughed. "Who do you think would be more disturbed?"

Mycroft chuckled. "I have no idea."

They started laughing hard both at the incredulity of it all, and the feeling that somehow, everything was going to turn out all right no matter what the universe threw at them.


	23. Mycroft, Under the Bleachers, With Molly

**A/N: Ah, some Halloween/Halloween-ish prompts at last! This next one is from Guest who asked,**

Could you consider Potterlock? Mycroft being a Slytherin, Molly a Ravenclaw... forbidden love between students and all that. It would be lovely. (Also Potterlock and Halloween fits, doesn't it?) Ella

**I'll do what I can, which is basically mindless fluff. Also, I might make this short and funny, and leave virtually no explanation.**

**Have fun…**

Mycroft, Under the Bleachers, With Molly

Sherlock had been following Mycroft around for the past hour. He caught plenty of odd looks, seeing as how he was only a first year and Mycroft was a 7th, but there was no reason Mycroft should be so happy today, or for the last 3 weeks. Today was the day for the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, and he seemed exceptionally happy. He followed the ginger out to the Quidditch field, except Mycroft _hated _watching the matches. So why was he going out of his way to make sure he got there on time? Sherlock used a cloaking spell on himself and started following Mycroft a little closer.

Just as they got to the field, Mycroft froze and turned around. Sherlock held his breath, hoping that this invisibility spell John described earlier actually worked. Mycroft looked around skeptically but seemed not to see Sherlock, as he turned back around and went over to the bleachers. Only instead of getting a seat _on _them, he went _under _them where Sherlock saw a 3rd or 4th year Ravenclaw waiting for him. She blushed and he smiled. "Molly, how have classes been?"

"All right, how's your job hunt going?"

"A few people have expressed interest in have me in the Ministry as an intern after I graduate."

"That's good news!"

"Not really." Molly looked confused and Mycroft clarified. "It's not good because that means I won't have an excuse to come and visit you."

Molly blushed and looked down. "O-oh…"

Mycroft moved over to her and wrapped his arms around her. "I've missed you," he said under his breath. She smiled up at him and said, "Well, I'm glad I wasn't the only one."

"Shame we always have to hide out somewhere to meet."

Molly nodded and rested her head on his chest. "You're getting really tall. It's ridiculous." Mycroft laughed. "My doctor says I'm only supposed to grow to 5' 4", or something like that."

Sherlock bit his lip. So Mycroft was not only dating a 4th year, but she was also a half-blood or muggleborn? He could only imagine how many people wouldn't like it. He focused his attention back onto Mycroft and Molly, to find them kissing. He couldn't help it and gagged a little, causing both of them to freeze. Mycroft raised his hand and said, "Aparecium!"

Sherlock felt the invisibility spell go away and his eyes widened at the thought of Mycroft being able to do wandless magic. But right now, he needed to get out of there. He turned and started to run, but Mycroft was too quick and cast another spell. "Carpe retractum!"

Sherlock fell to the ground and was dragged backward, red in the face, by an even redder Mycroft. "Molly, I'd like you to meet my brother Sherlock."

Molly just stared at him before asking, "How does a first year know an invisibility spell?"

Mycroft sighed and shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, whenever I see him, he's just sitting in the Slytherin Common Room or having something light to eat in the dining hall."

Molly nodded and whispered something into Mycroft's ear. Mycroft let Sherlock go and he ran away, with a quick nod of thanks to Molly. But he knew the next day why he got a howler from his mother about leaving Mycroft alone, and why Mycroft smiled as he read a letter from their parents, got up, walked over to the Ravenclaw table, kissed Molly, and walked out. Looks like not as many people minded as either of them would have thought.


	24. Sugar Highs and Holmeses

**A/N: Okay, last prompt to do before I post all the new ficlets I've written. Let's do this thing. Guest requested:**

Halloween prompt, serious of events,

On a average day been the mother of Holmes children is not easy adding sugar makes it worse so on Halloween Molly gives their children strict rules on how much sweets they can eat.

She gets a call from Sherlock or work leaving Mycroft alone just before the yearly sugar rush begins.

Before she leaves Molly warns Mycroft who has never had to go through who says it can't be that hard to look after 2 or plus children compared to any other night.

Before leaving Molly gives them full access to anything sugar based in the house (bonus if this includes Mycroft's hidden stash.

**And that's it. I think this'll wind up being fun, plus, I get to introduce new kids to the party. So…let's get this thing started!**

Sugar Highs and Holmeses

Molly was scared. That wasn't something she'd admit to often, but tonight, she was _scared._ It had been 8 years since Mycroft and her had gotten married, and a little over 7 since she'd given birth to triplets who somehow managed to all stay healthy throughout the pregnancy. Now the three kids, Victoria, Thomas, and Hamish, were returning from a night of trick or treating, trading candy, bragging about their hauls, and talking about what they wanted to dress up as next year. Victoria, dressed up to the nines and claiming to be an important business woman, thought she'd either go as the same thing, or something really scary that she couldn't think of yet. Tom and Hamish had gone as Siamese zombie twins, and were saying they wouldn't be trying another two-person costume no matter what else they did, and proceeded to argue about who needed to get out of the costume. But neither one of them had any clothes on underneath their costume, save their underwear. "You know what you should go as next year?" Tom asked Hamish, "A streaker!"

Hamish shoved him inside the costume and Victoria nimbly jumped out of the way of their collapse like only someone with years of experience could do. "Well if I'm going as a streaker you're going as one of Mum's cadavers!"

"You don't even know what that means!"

"Doesn't matter, 'cause I know what her job is otherwise, which means you'd be dead!"

The two started to wrestle and Victoria tried to tell them something, but got drowned out until she screamed, "HEY!" at the top of her lungs. The two looked up at her. "You know, I think I've found the scariest costume I could ever come up with. You two." She smirked and popped a piece of gum in her mouth.

"Okay, Victoria, you've reached your limit tonight. Tom, Hamish, remember you already reached them earlier."

They all nodded at the same time at continued down the street. Victoria started fiddling with her hair, which was brown like her mother's but who had curls that could rival Sherlock's. Tom and Hamish were identical right down to the blond hair Molly recognized from her own brothers, and Mycroft's nose which Sherlock always poked fun at them because of. Speaking of whom, he just sent her a text saying there were imitation vampire and werewolf attacks popping up all over London, and he needed her in the morgue. She walked them back into the house and sighed. She texted him back that she was busy, and he just insisted he needed her. Mycroft walked into the main entrance way, and the triplets immediately swarmed around him, fighting each other for his attention, which was undivided at Molly. "Does Sherlock need you in the morgue?"

This long in their relationship, Molly didn't even question how he knew, and she just nodded. "I'm sorry, I know the sugar rush is going to set in soon, and I don't want to leave you alone during it."

Mycroft just laughed. "How hard can it be? I don't see how it'd be much different than a normal night; they bounce off the walls anyway."

Molly just sighed. "Would you mind getting my lab coat? I think I left it upstairs, and I need to hide the candy from these three."

Mycroft nodded and quickly left. When he was gone, Molly smiled and knelt down in front of the three triplets, who were now far more interested in her then why their dad had left them downstairs without even acknowledging that they were there. "Okay, you three. I've got a deal to make with you. Dad's never been around Halloween, so he doesn't know what usually happens. But, as you guys insist, the best way to learn is through a worst-case scenario. So, I'm allowing you access to _all_ candy tonight, including Dad's stash in the back of the cupboard, on two conditions. One, you don't complain about how sick you feel tomorrow. You bring it on yourself for eating that much. Two, you can't destroy the house while I'm on a case with Uncle Sherlock, okay?"

The three looked at each other, then nodded furiously. Molly smiled and took their bags. "You'll have to find them before you can eat any more, but I won't make it too hard."

They looked at each other, excited. They hadn't been able to eat all the candy they wanted in 3 years! Mycroft came back down the stairs holding Molly's lab coat, and she grabbed it, kissing his cheek and saying, "I'll be back soon," over the sound of 7-year-olds gagging.

She left and Mycroft stood there a second, looking over the three carefully. Tom and Hamish's pupils were blown; their sugar rush had already started. Victoria's weren't quite as big, but she had her hands stuffed in her pockets which was a sure sign she was trying to keep them from shaking. But the three were relatively calm. Victoria smiled and quickly ran up the stairs yelling, "I'm gonna go change!"

Tom got a smirk on his face, yelling up to her, "Why bother going upstairs?" and stepping out of his and Hamish's costume. Hamish bugged his eyes out and Victoria took one look at what was downstairs and turned to walk to her room. Mycroft sighed. This was rare, but nothing new. "Tom, put your trousers on."

"No."

Now that _was _unexpected. "Tom." He put on his best disapproving glare. "Put your trousers on, _right now_."

Tom just smiled and ran off into the house, but not before he stole the shirt to his and Hamish's zombie costume. Hamish turned red and made sure that their shared pants wouldn't fall down before running after him and yelling, "Tom! Get back here with that shirt!"

Mycroft was about to yell at the both of them when he heard Victoria walking down the stairs. She held two Nerf guns and had a feed of those Styrofoam darts wrapped around her like you might see in a war movie. She offered one to Mycroft. "If we're going to war, you're going to need a gun," she explained solemnly.

Mycroft shook his head and she shrugged, then taking a few steps toward where the boys ran off, screeched, "IF EITHER OF YOU TOUCH MY CANDY I WILL SKIN YOU ALIVE!"

Mycroft tried to stop her but she was already doing a war cry and running off shooting Nerf darts everywhere. Mycroft rushed after her and saw all three of them searching the kitchen. "Found mine first! Found mine first!" Victoria yelled as she pulled a bag out of the freezer.

Tom and Hamish found theirs among the dish cloths and cookbooks, and were arguing over who should have the last chocolate bar. Victoria walked up, snatched it from their hands, and stuffed it into her mouth, smiling. The two immediately started to attack her, but she curled up protectively around her own stash and screamed. Mycroft physically pulled them off her and started to reprimand them, but as soon as he let them go they ran up to the cupboard and helped each other onto the shelves. They reached back as far as they could on the top shelf and pulled out Mycroft's special "hands-off" cache and when he tried to get it back from them, they proceeded to play keep away with it, tossing it to Victoria who ran out of the room. He chased after the three after that for a while, trying to cut off their access to any more sugar, but despite their constant laughter he could never pin down where they were. He sat down, panting, on the living room couch, where the three proceeded to attack him with everything they had. He tried to fight them off, but had to settle for backing himself into a corner behind a lamp and curling up in a protective ball. At some point he felt the hands stop but he refused to get up to check why.

He must have dozed off at some point because the next thing he knew the hands were back, but this time they were Molly's. She forcibly removed his hands from his face and neck, but didn't try to pull him from the corner. She was trying very hard not to laugh. "I tried calling you but you didn't answer. I called in the cavalry just in case; your parents are up stairs putting the three sugar junkies to bed right now."

"They're…not still hyper, are they?"

"No, they were passed out all over the house when we got here. They're having more trouble trying to get them to move."

Mycroft sighed and rested his forehead on his knees. "If it's all the same to you, I'd still rather not come out from behind here just yet."

Molly smiled and dragged him out. He sat back down in his previous position right in front of the lamp and Molly imitated him. "So, is a sugar rush harder to handle?"

"Sherlock on crack is easier to handle."

Molly smacked him lightly on the arm. Mycroft just leant back and said, "I'm serious."

Molly leaned forward so they were the same distance apart as before. "I know." She leaned in quickly and kissed his nose. "Boop," she whispered.

Mycroft smiled and kissed her nose back.

Molly hugged him and ruffled his hair playfully. He kissed her hair and pulled her next to him, as he kissed her forehead. They heard a throat clearing from the doorway. "Glad to see you two are letting us do all the work."

Molly giggled guiltily and Mycroft averted his eyes and turned red. He was about to apologize to his mother when Molly said, "We're going to be the ones cleaning up the house. Mycroft just seemed a little traumatized after this year's Halloween sugar high and I didn't want to trigger any PTSD by making him deal with the three tiny terrors tonight."

Mr. Holmes smiled understandingly and whispered something in his wife's ear. She looked at him and said, "I suppose you're right. Those three are more than what we ever had to deal with from him and Sherlock. We'll leave you two to it. If you need any help, you know where to call."

Molly smiled and nodded and Mycroft turned redder at the first comment and wouldn't look up. "I'm never letting them near candy again," he muttered. "Ever."

His parents heard him but didn't say anything as they left, but laughed loudly as soon as they got in a cab. Clearly, their son still needing a little adjusting in the parenting department!


End file.
